


Digging Yourself Deeper

by fullofshame



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Cock Slut, Cockwarming, Come Marking, Comeplay, Consequences, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fingerfucking, Homophobia, Humiliation, Humor, Justice, Kneeling, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Nobility, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge Sex, Royalty, Selkies, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, straight to gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-04-11 21:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofshame/pseuds/fullofshame
Summary: Richard Cagonhill is beautiful young knight, war hero, eldest of three brothers, heir of wealthy duke, famous ladykiller... and an unrepentant, entitled asshole used to taking what he wants and acting out without regards for consequences he has on others, living only for his own passing pleasure, often at expense on others.Attitude like that begs to be corrected, and he starts learning important lessons from the moment when he steals selkie's sealskin coat.





	1. Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my new story, about asshole knight who gets what is coming to him, in fun and sexy way. Big thanks to decadentbynature and Nelja for listening to me rambling.
> 
> This story will contain heavy dub-con and mind-control, as well as homophobia, sexism, bullying, family abuse, entitlement, abuse of employees, xenophobia and general other bigotry from Richard's side. take care!

The sealskin called out to him.

It wasn’t his fault, of course not.  After all, what he did was simply natural, simply reasonable.  It was something hundred, thousand men had done before him, that thousand more would  after him. And besides, she had only herself to blame, for being so irresponsible and stupid, to leave her skin out in open. She was basically asking for it to happen. After all, what man could resist something like that?

Everybody knew legends, after all. Stories about selkies, the fairy women who came to shores from sea, shedding  their magical coats, without which they were unable to assume seal skin. If man were to grab it, he would gain a beautiful, perfectly obedient wife, who would bring prosperity to his lands and birth him many great children, strong sons and beautiful daughters- as long as he hid the coat, for moment she found it she would run away to sea, and abduct his children.

Anyway, she got pretty good deal. She would have a husband, and not  one of measly, dumb fishermen as most of her kind got, but an actual knight, soon to be member of King’s Guard (nobody said anything, of course, but he knew he deserved that, there was no way he would be denied) and and a future duke. She would have lands, money, title, respect and servant and connections ( or well at least, her husband would be able to give them to her if he was in merciful mood). Her children may even marry in royal family someday. And it wasn’t as if she would be helpless, really-she would have whole noble household ready to protect her honour, and once he was on deathbed he might even tell her where skin was hidden- what would few decades be to an ageless creature?

So he took it. he knew immediately what it was, of course- shining with dim green and blue light, switching from a unbloodied seal hide to heavy, precious leather jacket in moments when he blinked, smelling of thunder and salt and breeze on open sea, yet no stench of flesh or seaweed or fish clung to it. It stood on stone near shore, wet despite being on scorching noon sunlight, utterly clean despite laying in sand. It could be nothing else.

 It hissed when he grabbed it, like when cold water gets in touch with fire.  It jerked, moved, trying to wiggle away, trying to kick him, but it was helpless- he held it, he was stronger, and it could just whine and tremble and weakly shine, until it settled in form of a thick brown jacket, shiny as well-kept fur, like best leather even king couldn’t afford. It had many buttons that seemed to resemble shells, and resembled sort of coat he would expect general to wear during mission in northern mountains.

‘’She has got weird taste. No matter, we can train her out of it.’’ He thought with smirk, as light died out, and only ghost of salty scent remained, and he walked away.

* * *

‘’Why are you so helpless? I have better things to do then to babysit you.’’ Richard growled at his younger brother, who tensed and twitched despite being taller then Richard for at least three heads, and tried to avoid his gaze.

‘’Father said so...’’ Connor mumbled, fiddling with his hands, face lowered as his brother rolled his eyes.

‘’Of course he did. He is aware of how helpless you are. It is miracle that I don’t have to lead you by hand.’’ Richard laughed at that, as  Connor clenched sheets on his bed, yet remained silent.

‘’I..’’ Words got stuck in his throat when when Richard looked at him with same flat, steely gaze their parents leveled at him so often.

‘’At least I won’t have to remain with you for long. If I did, I would have to kill myself out of pain at watching your incompetence.’’  Richard laid down on bed, slamming his boots on sheets, leaving mud and grass over gray fabric.

‘’How long will you stay?’’ Connor asked, dread rolling in his stomach- but he couldn’t decide whether he was dreading that Richard would stay too long or too short.

‘’If everything goes right and that shitty excuse for wagon driver actually does what he is paid for, hopefully less then single day. If I have to sleep in hovel again, I will have your head on pike.’’ Richard hated inns, and peasant houses, and chateaus, and anything less then a palace. He was a future duke, and as such having castle was as natural and expected to him as breathing.

‘’It is a castle. It may not be very big but it is still a castle.’’ Connor attempted to defend himself, and Richard snorted. Connor was after all the youngest, ugliest and most anxious of duke Michael’s three son, and it was only tradition that prevented duke from ordering him to sleep in pigsty.

‘’At least your standards are low enough for it. Gods forbid you were given something proper, you’d ruin it in a day.’’ Richard pressed his filthy boots on sheets, leaving mess poor maids would have to clean before he went to sleep, or he would raise ruckus. Connor sometimes wondered whether Richard realized servants were people too, and dreaded that answer was no.

‘’ I wouldn’t be so bad.’’ Useless battle. Nobody in his family believed Connor was capable of anything, just as they couldn’t help but see Richard as golden child.

‘’No. You would be even worse. At least in that you exceed expectations.’’ Connor was far ahead his brother in all linguistic and literary pursuits, accomplishment not lauded as being bookworm wasn’t something his parents saw as good thing for knight, but he never had Richard’s skill with insults and witty remarks.

‘’I-‘’ But Richard was right. Their parents and relatives and well everybody else he knew made point of telling him how dumb and helpless he was, how it was great fortune he was just third son because he was utter failure at fighting and socializing both, how he would ruin family.

‘’I am going out for walk. I can’t stand this stupid place anymore. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m out.’’ Richard jumped off the bed and walked out while giving his brother a glare that excellently warned him that if he dared to complain, he would get hit and spat on.  Connor still felt almost guilty that relief came upon him when Richard exited the room.

Richard stormed off from inn, and as he passed through village people parted from his way, as if a demon wielding steel whip has come upon them, which may have been actually preferable in minds of some.  Demons are easy to deal with, and can be exorcised. Insufferable spoiled noblemen who thought that four-fifths of society existed to gather to their every whim were far greater trouble, especially as their parents could convince king to tax village until it would be more profitable for them to be imprisoned for rest of their lives then comply- that way they would get three meals a day and bed at least.

What made things even worse for anybody unlucky enough to happen on Richard’s path was that Richard was young, handsome, and man of  the  most brilliant reputation. He seemed like perfect picture of knight from chivalric poems, doubly so to people whose standards of beauty held clear skin and possession of all teeth to be uncommon accomplishment.  Tall, lean and well-built, with face that had more in common with portraits of saints and heroes then most of his relatives, well-groomed hair and beard colour of ruby, all decked out in latest fashion and with bearing of a true warrior, famous through land for various accomplishments in times of war and piece both, for preventing assassinations on king and brokering deals with foreign nobility with nothing but charm.

He moved through world with rare, insane confidence, with aura of fame and excellence that made stable boys stare in wonder at him even when he knocked them in mud after they helped him climb on horse, that made servant girls feel proud even when they ended up on streets after giving birth to his bastards, that made pages feel amazing when they bullied boys suspected of ‘’deviant attractions’’, as they saw Richard do to his own brother.

Richard barely registered that. To him, such behavior was entirely natural. Earth turned, grass was green, rain was wet and peasants bowed and scrapped when he hit them. In fact, only reason he took notice of that was because it further stroked his ego. He could barely cover smile as villagers retreated before him as he made way to lonely beach.

Duke’s son, royal knight, soon to be member of King’s Guard, hero celebrated for his actions at battlefield and against spies and assassins,  as well as much beloved in most of aristocratic circles (still being smart enough not to trust any of them, for nobleman of his status couldn’t afford that), would come home relieved of annoying, useless little brother and with wife none would match.

It would be wonderful trade. The useless third son, awkward doormat who failed to speak smoothly in court, who was teased even by servant’s children, who managed to lose in every tourney and training match, whether it be sword-fighting or jousting,  despite his remarkable size and well-developed form ( Connor was stronger than Richard, despite being years younger, yet Richard could effortlessly toss him on ground. Connor didn’t have it in himself to defend himself, to fight back, to strike at anybody, much less his cruel, perfect brother). He always managed to somehow ruin his clothes,  he had no accomplishments to his name, he wasted his days in library. And he was so annoying, took him so long to get to point and he never participated in any fun, like throwing mud at cooks or mocking stable boys or seducing maids or gambling with squires or getting drunk with barons-to-be. Not to mention that he had face like monkey, and then there were his disgusting, unnatural inclinations towards wrong sex...

He would leave his brother in the unused summer manor, overseeing poor lands that barely produced enough food to feed their measly population of peasants, and he would instead bring the bride worthy of one such as him. She would be tiny and slender, all delicate and soft features, white and fragile as china. She would have soft, pouty mouth, as red as rosebud, as sweet as honey, and teeth sparkling like pearls, and she would kiss him before he went out and after he returned, each time.  Her hands would be soft and gentle as velvet, when she held on him as they danced at balls, when she put her tiny fingers ( so small he could break them with harsh squeeze) with their clean nails in his palm. Her skin would be pale and unblemished, so delicate it could bruise from  all but easiest tough, and smooth as sea glass. She would be silent, speaking only when addressed, in voice that would be as sweet as song of nightingale. She would be demure and obedient, never complaining or wanting anything, always sweetly smiling, her eyes shining as emeralds. She would give him dozen children, strong sons and beautiful daughters. She would have good, big breasts, which she would never show to anybody but him, for she would be chaste and humble creature.

And she would never get fat or ugly, she would never go grey or wrinkled, she would be beautiful even when he was old man on deathbed ( he quickly stopped that line of thought, for he didn’t want to imagine himself weak and ugly and helpless, like his grandfather at his deathbed, man as important and respected as Richard and Richard’s father rendered demented and pathetic, on mercy of servants for everything). And she would never run away, for he would burn her sealskin coat in very hearth of their home.

That was only thing he deserved, after all.  He was Richard Cagonhill, firstborn son and heir of  Duke  Michael Cagonhill, heir to one of richest and most influential houses in their great kingdom. He was accomplished, respected knight, possibly best in generation, rumored to have chances of joining king’s guard. He proved himself in tourneys, and in the war, and when he saved the king’s life from an assassin. he was well connected with all of his nobles, and most welcome guest among all taverns and brothels (which overcharged, thickheaded, useless common rabble, even if they were too afraid to ask him to pay for mugs and chairs he broke in brawls). He was celebrated for his chivalric deeds, saving towns from dragon and angry troll, bravely riding out to slay them ( in truth, he happened by chance and got in conflict of them, and it was his luck nobody witnessed how that went down).

And even if he had none of those, he would have still managed to lead hoards of girls in his bed- he had handsome face,  cheekbones sharp as diamond, hair as red as rubies, and his figure was shapely, he was strong and had rather nice voice. He had dragged many peasant girls and maids and even few minor noblewomen in his bed. It was laughably easy, how they fell for his smile and sweet words, how they tumbled under covers, expecting him to care afterwards. few even dared to show up nine months later, banging at doors and demanding recompensation.

He couldn’t do that here. Well, he could, of course, he had not yet found tavern wretch or barmaid he couldn’t easily seduce, and honestly doubted such woman existed, but he had yet to find any that was worth effort and that could bring him pleasure. Aside fact that they were  seemingly all married ( which wasn’t that much trouble, as half of husbands seemed eager and proud to have wife that was good enough for man of Richard’s station and hoped they could get something out of noble bastard, and ones who made fuss Richard easily dealt with), they were all far too ugly, fat with bloated pink faces and crooked yellow teeth, and horribly hairy. He hadn’t lain with proper woman in who knows how long.

But now that all would change. He would bring home bride unlike any, bride that should be impossible, bride so beautiful they would sing songs of him for centuries to come. The brave, wonderful knight that won himself  a faerie maiden for wife... Yes, she would be one for him, his one and true woman, one he was meant to spend rest of his life with- which didn’t mean that he would give up his escapades, because pleasure demanded variety and even greatest desserts started to taste like ash if you ate them everyday.  But she was one he would bring to his parents, one he would sleep next to when he wanted nothing more than to lay and snore, one he would bring to royal balls, one who would bear him heirs.

Marriage was, after all, far more than just sex.

Selkie maiden would show herself up at the beach, he was sure of that. A creature of sand and salt, she wouldn’t leave it. And she would find her way to him, the one who had taken her skin, for that is how it happened in stories. he knew where he would fait for her, a small hidden place near trees that grew in-between beach and village. Place comfortable and hidden enough for some fun before he brought her home. But he needed to get through this stupid village first, it’s dirty roads and clumsy inhabitants. They didn’t even know how to properly get out of way, and every moment he was walking into some bumpkin or other.

‘’Are you blind, you oaf? I could have you whipped for this! ’’ The old man in front of Richard was as slow as snail, and probably deaf, given he hadn’t heard Richard’s furious steps. Richard bumped in him and old man fell down, groaning about his knees, white beard turned brown with mud, and splashed Richard’s doublet.

‘’  I am sorry I don’t have yes on back, you... oh Sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I didn’t mean...’’ The old man babbled, face ashen as he tried to get up only to fall in mud again, but this time Richard had foresight to move, so mud splashed some random woman, who responded by hissing at old man before noticing Richard and quickly scurrying off.

‘’ No matter. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, or you will be very sorry.’’ He could have passed time by playing with stupid old man, because his doublet was surely more expensive than man’s life, but he had better things to do, and also it wasn’t his best doublet anyway.

‘’Thank you, good Sir, thank you so much...’’ He had awful voice, that old man, raspy and choking, and Richard was sure his breath smelled horribly, so he scoffed and left that he might be free of fool’s rambling. This time, thankfully, people stay out of his way. He never liked watching people be whipped, very boring, but you have to show you are willing to carry out your threats if you are to be taken seriously.

He made his way through village, through it’s cobbled roads and narrow streets, through it’s hovels and bustling markets, through dozen bawling children and annoying fishermen, through stench that seemed to seep in very earth., through trees of oak and birch, olive and lemon that separated borders of village from beach.

There, in place where soil and sand mingled, under shade of dappled leaves, near rocks that arose from sand, he listened to sound of waves caressing land, and waited for his bride to come.

He wondered what she would be like. Would she have hair like gold and eyes like cornflowers,  nude as newborn, wobbling and trembling as she approached him, utterly obedient as she was unable to know what he would do? Would she hair like his, ruby red, and eyes like grass, dressed in loose fabrics, eager to join him on land, eager to share pleasures of flesh with him on sand? Or would she have hair as dark as night, eyes gray-brown of her sealskin, begging him to let her go, unaware how much beautiful his palace was than her cold sea?

Whatever she was like, she wouldn’t be getting away. He hid her sealcoat well.

* * *

Somehow, Richard managed to open his eyes.                

He didn’t know why it came to him so hard. One moment he was waiting, blinking, and then other he was struggling to open his eyelids, for they were heavy and fatigued, and he could barely raise them so that smidgen if light passed, as if they were somehow sealed, glued down. His bones felt as if they were hollowed out, dragged and bound to floor, and his head felt dizzy and likely to float away, as if he had breathed in some thick smoke, and his throat was raw and dry.

When he finally cracked his eyelids open, fighting against desire to return to numbness and silence, by instinctively rubbing his eyes, he stood static and shocked before he realized what was wrong, realization slowly coming through his still buzzing brain.

First, hours had passed. When he came to beach, it was almost noon, sky blue and without clouds, sun harshly bearing down on men, standing in center of sky, like lead actor on stage. Now however there were fat, rolling clouds in sky, and sun’s position had shifted significantly.

Second, his clothes  were missing. Well, not all of them, thankfully, but his white doublet and cape, his belts and buttons connecting two, and his leather gloves were gone, as were his sheath and sword. He gritted his teeth and let out hiss, because he was too angry to voice all ideas he had for how he would make those thieves pay.

Third, he wasn’t in same place where he had laid down, slept moments-hours before.

‘’Oh good. You are finally awake.  You slept so deep I began to wonder if you would slip into coma.’’  The voice doesn’t speak, it _sings_. It is the most beautiful thing Richard had ever heard.  No bard or minstrel could perform so well, each word is perfectly pronounced and accented, each syllable performed and drawn out in way that shouldn’t be possible without decades of backbreaking labor, each sentence a perfect melody that shook him to core, and yet it all sounded so easy and natural, as if it’s owner was born performing.

‘’ I hope you had nice sleep at least. I was really beginning to worry, I had no idea what I would do if you didn’t wake up. I have no gift for healing, and even if I did I wouldn’t know how to apply it to somebody like you. And I couldn’t walk in that village with you thrown over shoulder. Folk like me tend to be viewed with suspicion.’’ It was really, really beautiful voice, the most beautiful one Richard had ever heard. It was warm and velvety, bit drawn out, deep and rolling and very strong. It was light and cheery, impulsive and fast, sort of voice more suited for songs sang at festivals, where you jumped and danced and drank yourself stupid until you couldn’t walk. Richard found himself wondering whether he should start dancing like a madman, or stay unmoving and listen to it until centuries passed.

‘’How stupid must you be to confuse nap for coma? And if you tried to lay your hands on me like that, I guarantee you would have regretted it.’’  Richard somehow managed to shake off numbness and buzzy tingling from his limbs, and got up in manner he supposed was appropriate  in amount of intimidation and masculine grace it emitted, and not at all wobbly and clumsy from hours of laying like log, and thus not at all deserving of strong and high laughter he somehow earned ( it seemed that somehow colour and tone  changed yet voice remained same, as if somebody was playing same notes from before on completely different instrument). It was laughter that reminded Richard of street musicians, of drums played by circus performers, of wind caressing his face at dawn after sea storm calmed down.

‘’ Stop laughing! If anybody should laughed at, it is your ignorant self, not me.’’ Richard bellowed as he started to clean himself from sand, which scratched and irritated his skin, as it had somehow found it’s way in every part of his clothes, and laid siege on his hair. Richard was absolutely sure that he looked dignified and noble enough to instill appropriate amount of respect and trepidation in this idiot that saw fit to bother him, even as he was scratching his head, and praying sand wouldn’t fall in his eyes, just as he was aware his voice couldn’t sound whiny or squeaky to anybody.

‘’And why do you assume that I wasn’t simply enjoying this lovely day, but that I was laughing at you? Does that happen a lot? Because if you really talk like that all time, I can see why you would be target of teasing.’’ That voice  felt  warm and unnerving like dipping finger in melted wax, and it made Richard feel as if he was some gangly, useless squire with misshapen face, just as it almost made foam pour from his mouth. Rage was only thing that kept him from scratching his breeches, because that wasn’t elegant and signified even when king himself did it, and would give this impudent idiot that deserved whack with sword more excuses to mock him.

‘’ I understand somebody like you is unused to hearing proper, educated person talk. Now stop hiding and show yourself before I... ‘’ There was man near him. Richard didn’t see where he came from, nor how he appeared next to him so fast, and honestly he didn’t care. He couldn’t. He expected some of those awful villagers, with their pink, balding heads and crooked yellow teeth, sagging skin and dirty hands, small and pathetic as withered twigs, so awful to look at that Richard would be tempted to throw up at sight of his vile face, which would have made Connor look acceptable.

‘’ I confess this language isn’t familiar to me, but I think I speak it well enough for you to have no major complaint. And you shouldn’t rain so much insults upon man who saved you from heatstroke. What were you thinking, sleeping in noon sun without shade, in such thick clothes?’’ Instead, he was met with man that suited voice, song that left his wonderful, perfect lips, which sat upon handsome face that seemed to belong to some ancient statue, bearing no blemishes or flaws. Sunlight somehow came down on him in such way that it seemed as if light was bursting from him, as if he was cloaked in summer’s rays.

‘’What is matter? You aren’t so chatty now. Has cat gotten your tongue, or have you lost reason because of my beauty?’’ His skin was as tanned as that of sailor, something that was  in most men flaw and mark of low station, sign of peasant that labored under scorching sun,  but which Richard couldn’t see as something to detract from man’s wonderful appearance, and not just because he himself was just as, if not more tanned by his efforts in war. He had teeth as white as salt, and wavy  hair as dark as shade of trees, and eyes gray-brown of wet leather. Sharp cheekbones and strong jaw and  dusting of  stubble that managed to look elegant, and his face was perfect, incredibly symmetrical, as if he was a painting brought to life.

‘’You... You... So you are one who had stolen my clothes! You, you _stranger_!’’ He spat out, trying to ignore fact that this man was as tall as him, and more broadly built, chest wide enough to lay several plates on it and biceps size of Richard’s head, covered in fine but not brutish hairs.  Instead he focused all his irritation and confusion in giving word stranger that specific undertone many people but especially those of Richard’s station used to inform people that spoke other languages, bowed to other deities or looked different from their default that speaker was superior being given right by God and Nature to trample upon his lessers.

‘’Well, I didn’t expect  much, but must you be so petty and vile? No need to adress me like that just because I am a ‘’stranger’’. It is almost funny, though, that you would call me a thief of clothes.’’ Richard didn’t see what was petty and weird about his proclamation. This man had dared to undress him as Richard slept, tearing off Richard’s clothes with his big, strangely long and fine sticky fingers, no doubt to steal them for himself, as his own, though dyed in various expensive shades of green and blue were rather simple and torn in several places, showing far too much skin and toned chest- no doubt man had stolen them from somebody far richer long ago. A foreign  beggar and thief, who would dare pretend to be concerned and honourable servant, while he stood there shoeless!

‘’And how would you call yourself? Thief is best word I can find for one who creeps on unsuspecting man and takes his clothes while one is defenseless.’’ This earned him amused smirk from strange man, smirk as cold as sea in winter storm, as sharp as broken shards of shells, bitter as vinegar. It was all these things at once.

‘’ Again, were it not for my intervention, you would have probably died of heat stroke at best, laying in so many layers under open sky on sand  at noon in summer.  Unless you were intending to perform suicide, I won’t apologize, but would like you to stop complaining. Though  if that is your intention, I dare say there are far quicker and more comfortable ways.’’ He was same size as Richard, same height, but there seemed to be something much bigger about him, his stance seemingly saying that he whole heartedly believed there was no king in this world who could harm him.

‘’ What! How dare you accuse me of such sin!’’ Suicide was sin, and worst of all, it was sin of cowardice. Richard saw it in war, soldiers on their side who couldn’t live with what they have done, and soldiers of other side who couldn’t stand being in bondage. It was such utterly wicked deed that Richard felt their corpses should be left on roads for carrions to feast on.

‘’Oh, so you are one of _those_. Disappointment after disappointment, that is all for me in store today. Sin, what strange word, that your people use so often.’’ There was something cruel and hard in his voice, and Richard for moment felt uneasy, his insides churning, as if he was squire that had disappointed his knight. That just fed his rage, but still he was unable to look at man straight in eye, in his shining eyes that felt like sinking in depthless pool...

‘’ And from what heathen lands do you come, that you don’t think suicide should be punished? Or are you so primitive that you don’t even have laws and order? And why are you taking up my time? Planning to steal rest of my clothes?’’ He fully expected this heathen, foreign brute to try to kill him for his booths or breeches. Normally Richard wouldn’t be concerned, he had dealt with men with far wider shoulders and greater muscles before, but all those times he had sword or at least knife at his side.

‘’For who knows which time, I haven’t stolen your clothes, they are right next to you. And I assure you, my land is full of laws, it is just that we don’t confuse religion with justice. And even if I was thief, which I am not, I would never take _that_ \- I heard you get such colour by soaking linen in piss.’’ he shrugged, and his torn teal shirt, almost wholly unbuttoned creaked and moved in such way that Richard could see his chest and abs, and for moment he wondered if his back was similarly muscled, before he started getting enraged at blasphemous idea of court that didn’t take church in account.

However, as he never had much patience nor affection for history or philosophy ( something that was always Connor’s unknightly interest) he moved to insult that was much closer to his heart, ignoring fact that his doublet, cape, belt and weapons were right next to him, neatly  stacked together.

‘’How dare you say that! You come here in our country and dare insult my people! What you think we are, some savages?’’ The man smiled, smile as beautiful and incredible as greatest royal ball, and for some reason Richard felt warm and proud.

‘’There. Do you now see how it feels when somebody talks nonsense about your people? It is stupid at least, even when you ignore how offensive it is.’’ It felt like lullaby, those words, wrapping around Richard like  cloak of moonbeams and spider silk, a cloak of sea foam and seawater.

‘’What are you talking about? You slandered _me_ and my people. I did nothing of such sort.’’ Even if  Richard thought whatever primitive place spawned such rake deserved it, but he was hard pressed to find insult that wouldn’t be  fact and which this man wouldn’t try to twist somehow.

‘’ Oh for... Well then, would you please, noble sir, grace me with knowledge of your name, and deign to teach this uncivilized heathens what sins there are?’’ Man bowed to him, and for some reason Richard though that any girl he asked for dance would be very happy.  He thought of getting his clothes and putting them on, but they were likely dirty from being in sand for too long, and it really was hot.

‘’ Very well. I shouldn’t have to, but it appears you are desperately in need of some manners. I am sir Richard Cagonhill, heir and eldest son of duke Michael Cagonhill, knight of the realm of Brunia. And you are?’’ It was really hot, and it wasn’t fair that only  Richard was sweating. Oh, the other man was sweating as well, but it wasn’t ugly, messy kind that left stains and odor. For some reason he glistened, skin shining like polished marble.

‘’I am grateful for your generosity. You can call me Rónán. Now, I am interested, tell me what other sins there are. Not all, of course, you don’t have time for it, and I don’t have confidence my ears could stand  to listen to all that.’’  There was a strange smell in air, something sharp and cold and yet somehow herblike, like northern wind scattering pollen across sea. It made Richard relax his stance and muscles, worming it’s way in his  nose just as man’s melodic voice washed over his mind.

‘’Sodomy.’’ Richard spat out, not knowing why word came into his mind first. It had to be because of Connor, who never made secret of his unnatural inclinations, no matter how many times Richard and his friends (though some would argue lackeys was more appropriate word) tried to beat it out of him.

‘’Excuse me, but I don’t know that word. Care to explain?’’ God curse him, but Richard couldn’t understand how such beautiful man could be so dumb. From which godforsaken land did this man (who was surely some peasant) crawled, when he knew nothing of the world?

‘’It is an abomination. Wholly against nature. It is an act comparable to incest and bestiality.’’ Church used to hunt such people, sometimes in past, but unfortunately stopped. Oh, he knew he should feel happy for Connor because of that, but even if loss of Connor wouldn’t have been great tragedy, their father would have found way to prevent it. Richard had yet to see bishop who wouldn’t overlook certain evidence when faced with possible donation.

‘’But you haven’t yet told me what it is? You just said it was so awful. Is it your word for rape?’’ The strange man, Rónán, looked so confused, his hair swaying in wind that was picking up, his eyes sparkling like gems.

‘’No. Worse. It is.. It is... It is a perverted thing, like mutation, when two men...’’ He couldn’t even speak it out. Rape was awful, sure, but it was one of unfortunate parts of life, and there was no way to stop it. It was simply one of things that happened when times got bad, especially when soldiers were really excited, and there was as much chance of stopping it as eradicating all thieves or preventing rain.

‘’Ah. And why is it such awful thing?’’ That voice, that amazing voice coming from such beautiful man slithered all over Richard’s skin, making him stop in his tracks, making his heart quiver, causing his skin to shudder.

‘’Because that is wrong! It is unnatural! You have husbands and wives, and they go together, they have children, while what those fags do is disgusting and forbidden, and how do they even know who is woman and who man...’’ He rambled, voice as bitter as vinegar, face curling in grimace at awful images that filled his head, of toned male bodies humping each other, hot and strong and tender, and he didn’t notice how Rónán’s face became cold and harsh and wild, and yet there was crackling joy in his eyes,  like that of executioner whose most recent assignment was his most hated neighbour, or predator that found it’s favourite play.

‘’ You want to know how? it isn’t so different from when it is done between men and women, or women themselves. Kneel, skin thief. Kneel, Richard Cagonhill. Kneel, husband of mine.’’ And with those words, upon sand did Richard fall.

‘’What... What are you speaking

about, you moron?!’’ He couldn’t move.  His legs were healthy and unbroken, there were no bindings on them, no force that kept him down, they didn’t even feel numb and tired. But for some reason, he couldn’t find strength inside himself to deny Rónán, he couldn’t find willpower to disobey.

There was no way to stop him.

‘’You should be nicer to me, or at least quieter.  Honestly, by all Courts, I still can’t believe what trash came out of your mouth.  I didn’t expect much from predator like you, but you still managed to horrify me. What  stupid and vile and rude words you let out of yourself, how aren’t you ashamed?’’ And Rónán, as gradual and obvious as dispersal of storm, as setting of Sun. His dark hair became as green as seaweeds, his skin took on colour of seal’s hide, and his face reformed, bones subtly rearranging their structure  in way that was still beautiful but could never pass for human, and it became perfectly symmetrical, each feature mirrored on other half his of face.

‘’Don’t slander me!  How dare you accuse me of that!’’ Richard spat out, and  Rónán narrowed his eyes in such way that young knight felt afraid that he would be hit, but there was far too much pride and fearlessness instilled in him to back away from such threat ( which left no room for reason and compassion therefore).

‘’You stole a faerie coat. Sealskin. Selkie’s hide. You had to know it’s owner would be forced to marry you, forced in human shape, cursed to live in this strange world, on land, bound to obey you. Have you at any point considered how your ‘’bride’’ would feel about that? Is that not rape?’’  And Richard  hesitated for second.  He had never raped any woman. Sure, sometimes some maid might have been hesitant about telling off young lord, or he might have put bit of pressure and manipulation on her, but he never forced himself on anybody. Not by blackmail, not by drugs, not by force. He thought of Rónán’s words, and then he remembered his mocking, and saw how wrong and perfect his face was and...

Richard shook his head. Rónán stared before he sighed.

‘’ Oh nine sisters preserve me. I can’t believe you are serious. Just, how are you accomplishing that? How do you manage to be so disgusting on every possible level? Is it something you trained for? Or is it my luck to be abducted and violated by worst human to be born in last few centuries?’’ Last part seemed to be directed to nobody in particular, but still Richard heard it, still melody of Rónán’s voice consumed him, still he was unable to raise himself up and run.

‘’Any woman would be blessed with me as husband.’’ Richard barked out, and Rónán’s face tensed and contorted in way human face should never be able to, and still he remained perfect.

‘’Perhaps.  She would have to be as vile as you, though. Or doll without feelings to hurt or autonomy to deny. Or perhaps you need monster to tame you, some witch or serpent that would break you and use you as nothing but a toy, as you seem to view your women. But you got nothing of that. You stole my skin, and now we are here.’’  Those words were just as beautiful as all others, more song than dialogue, but they were quiet and torn, as if they had to be dragged from raw throat, more fit for the funeral chant, and  Rónán’s face twitched and twisted as he spoke.

‘’ Wait, your skin? I didn’t  know, I didn’t mean, I thought that...’’ The legends never said anything about male selkies. But it did make sense, now that he thought of it. After all, if there were seal maidens, then there needed to be seal hunks. New selkies had to be born somehow.

‘’ I can guess what you  expected. In which case, I must say that had it been some lass of my folk, things wouldn’t have gone much better for you anyways. For though it may be foreign concept to you, ladies in general do not appreciate being abducted and forced in marriage, even human ones.’’ Rónán walked towards Richard, each movement full of energy, as graceful as if he had been dancing since he was born, and air crackled with power, smelling and feeling like hour before storm, full of tension just waiting to be unleashed.

‘’So here we are now.  You brought us in this situation and now it is up to you to decide what will happen next.  Will you free me and bear your punishment, or should we stay together in the blessed matrimony?’’ Rónán smiled, and his teeth shone like pearls, and Richard thought for some reason how it would feel if they bit in his flesh, his shoulders, his throat.

‘’Free, free! Let me go and I will bring you your sealskin back! And i will never again do something like this!’’ He screamed, willing to do anything to get away from this god forsaken creature, this beast in guise of perfection. And he would keep his promise, he would never steal another sealskin ( swan maidens were fair game, though).

‘’Of course you won’t. Because when I am free I will make you pay for your transgression. But since you were so agreeable, I will let you choose how you will meet your end.’’ Something beat against Richard’s ribcage at those words, something felt flattered and grateful, even though he tried to bury it.

‘’What? You can’t, you filthy fiend!’’ Who was this wicked, this horrible and shameless thing to threaten him? It was nobody and nothing, worse then heathen, and Richard’s fate was not to be destroyed by one such as that, to meet death without glory (though dying among gold and silks in advanced age was still his greatest desire, if he couldn’t be immortal).

‘’Oh, but I can. Once you return me my skin, all of my magic shall be returned, and there will be nothing to prevent me from using it on you, from endangering you and threatening your life. So what shall it be? Should I drown you, turn you into a minnow, or mark you as the prey for the Wild Hunt? Their hounds would surely love to dine on such fine flesh, but I think letting you to find your death at hands of sea would be well enough.’’ Images filtered through Richard’s head, and they carried smells and sensations with themselves, cold water assaulting his lungs, pain of his bones stretching and skin turning to scales, the terror of hounds white as sea foam flying down and sinking their teeth in his flesh.

‘’ Of course, we could stay together. It would be strange to be away from sea,  and with my magic so limited, but I wouldn’t be able to even scar you, and I always wanted to explore land. Human world is so fascinating. You know, there is game some of my people play, to meddle in lives of your, and influence humans, sometimes aid and guide them to greatness even, and I would like to join in.  They often choose knights and kings, because those have biggest impact on human realm. And from what I understand, you are rather rich and influential noble, which suits me just as fine. I am not fond of extreme luxury, but I am sure being servant of one such as you would be rather comfortable.’’

Ah, that would be his salvation. It made sense- stories always mentioned that faeries had courts and nobles of their own, and this explained so many stories about fairies helping humans- a way to spread their influence and attain fame. And Richard could use it, to become something special, to be the greatest knight of all ages...

‘’How can I trust you? And what did you mean by calling me husband?’’ He wasn’t idiot, no matter what this fiend may have thought. He knew well stories of fairies and Fiends tricking honest men with their wily schemes. And calling him so, that thought had to be as sinful and horrible as Forbidden Fruit...

‘’ A joke, bit sardonic, which I won’t mention to anybody else unless you are willing to introduce me as such, and have us join together in your church. I promise you will never have to take me like maiden. As for  how to trust, well my people can’t lie, but I would be willing to swear you oath. If you know so much to steal our skins, you should know we can’t break our vows.’’ It was horrible, disgusting joke, something not even Connor would have dared suggest, that made Richard’s face go almost as red as his hair. But Rónán spoke truth, all stories agreed fairies couldn’t break their vows.

‘’Do it then. Swear it.’’ This wasn’t so bad. No bride, but he would get something out of his attempt yet.

‘’Very well. Let it be so, if such is your wish, and may doom find me if in ignorance I somehow break this promise.

I swear upon my bone and flesh that I shall bring no terror and death unto your own, that I will not maim or scar you, and should you be wounded I will do my best to heal you, and should you be ill I will do my best to tend you, and should you be harmed I will do my best to keep you safe.

Upon all that I know and all honour I have, I swear that you secrets I shall not revel, that my tongue will be bound when it comes to your misdeeds and secrets, that not word I shall be able to speak in regards of your bargains and my nature and position, and that I shall treat what is yours with respect as if it was mine, and that I will never withheld what is mine from being used for wellbeing of yours.

Upon my heart and my true name do I swear, that I shall not plot against you or stab you in back, that I won’t betray you to enemy or offer bargain such as this to any other as you live, that I will not seek your demise or your madness, but that I shall have in mind only justice and righteousness and success for you in life.

I swear upon fabric and foundations of my realm, upon seas I was born in, upon sand and salt of my home, upon dancing stars of my world that I will work no enchantment and no curse upon you, but defend from others, and keep you safe from reasonless cruelty of my folk, that you shall not meet your death in water and that storms and misfortune shall avoid ships you pass on, that rain and fish will always bless your lands, and that should misery strike you you will not go homeless, starved and bare, but that I will work my powers to bring you  to comfortable and safe life.

And by all courts and governing of my folk, by laws agreed and written unto bones, by all rules we are bound to and all codes we must obey, and by will and punishment of our nine queens, I shall work to bring you to justice and happiness, to see you know  with fairness and success, and ensure you live life of safety and virtue.

So it is spoken and offered. Such it shall be, should you accept, and should we seal the bargain between us, and renew it occasionally.’’ He spoke with voice as deep as sea and as fickle as wind, with weight of islands and strength of storm, and even Richard felt it, bargain settling around them, in them, binding them until stars themselves fell.

‘’ It’s bargain! How do we seal it? And how about you let me stand up, or kneel yourself?’’ Rónán looked at him, in some strange way that made Richard feel hot and soft, and then he knelt down onto sand and came nearby, until Richard could feel his cool breath on his face, until he could smell him, oil and salt.

‘’Like this.’’ It was fast, fast as the lighting, fast as the wave sinking ship, and yet it seemed to last ages. In moment, Rónán rose his finger, and touched Richard’s lips with it. Richard trembled, writhed, as if every nerve in his body had been stricken, as if hundred hands were massaging him, pressing down on him, picking him apart.

‘’Uuumph!’’ He wanted to shout, to argue, to scream,  but he couldn’t, he didn’t dare, because Rónán pushed finger inside, tapping his tongue, tingling insides of his cheeks, and Richard could only drool.

‘’I have to admit, you aren’t half so bad once your mouth is put to some other purpose. Really, you should stop spewing such bullshit, it becomes even more miserable and disappointing coming from somebody so pretty. You have such interesting hair, and quite lovely features. You should try growing it out, it would suit you better.’’ Words tickled Richard, searing in his brain, tasting like honey coated venom, and he remembered listening to soldiers in camp, how they talked with their whores and washerwomen whose villages were sacked.

‘’ Your lips are very pretty, and that smidgen of beard at chin is actually cute? Like, at it’s own it looks awful, and sounds bit stupid in theory, but you manage to make it work. Must be something about shape of your face, it is very pleasing. Pity it doesn’t make up for your behaviour, but that can be fixed. You can be trained out of that horrible approach to world.’’ He 

talked to Richard as if he wasn’t a knight, but lowly maiden Rónán claimed at whim. And yet, and yet, compliments made him part his lips even more.

‘’ Have you ever done something like this? You don’t have technique at all, in fact you are downright sloppy, and yet you still manage to make it  a wonderful experience. Well, not the best I had, but good enough. Are you sure nobody tried to make some use out of your pretty empty head? Pushed you down and showed you some fun?’’ No, no no, he was Richard Cagonhill, dream of all ladies, greatest knight of his generation, he would never... and yet he almost jumped with joy when another finger joined first, their tips prickling soft flesh inside. They seemed dearer to him than any wine, than any feast, and he couldn’t force himself to bite down on them, and he felt bony knee press down on his own crotch.

‘’No? Well, that is a surprise. But good one, glad I am your first. That is custom among humans, no? That one partner should be inexperienced when time for consummation of marriage comes? And we must respect customs, and aren’t you glad you got me now? You see, you’d be hard pressed to find a virgin among selkie maidens.’’ They were dearer to him than breath, than air, and Richard sucked on Rónán’s fingers, coating them in saliva, latching on them like a lifeline, as they explored his mouth, pressing on tongue, hitting the roof, getting him all tingly and desperate. He could waste years like this, sucking, licking, listening to that beautiful voice telling him what good boy he was...

‘’ Well, that was fun. You are natural talent, you know?’’ Rónán pulled out his fingers, and saliva trickled out from Richard’s mouth, alongside a high-pitched whine, almost a sob, and when he realized what sounds he let out he quickly covered his mouth, blushing like virgin before prostitute.

‘’What... What did you do to me?’’ It had to be magic, it must have been magic, he couldn’t have liked that, there was no way, maybe woman’s but even that was perverted but no way could he like some male fiend...

‘’You stole my skin and hoped for, wished for bride to come so you would lay her down on sand and have your way with her before you carry her off to your household. Therefore, only way this bargain could be sealed would be by some form of intercourse and something to represent marriage. And since I doubt you would like me to fuck you until you can’t walk, or to bring me to church, I just played bit of erotic game with you, even if it was more like foreplay.’’ He had never done anything like that with his conquests. Bit of kissing and petting and then they were doing it ( he wondered, and wanted to hit himself for it, what Rónán’s lips tasted like).

‘’Is it done now? Are you my servant?’’  He still knelt. He didn’t know if there was still magic compelling him, and he didn’t dare to try to deny it.  He wanted to go and score amazing victories. He wanted to remain here with Rónán forever. but selkie rose and started dusting off sand from his pants.

‘’Possibly. We would have to test it out, to be sure. I mean, it was rather lowkey what we did just now, usually it requires something more... obvious. Perhaps I could try to cast a curse on you and we would see whether it sticks? What you think, Richard?’’ And somehow, idea sparked in his head, and he knew what he had to do, what he must do. Led by pure instinct, he grabbed Rónán’s torn, blue pants, and started tugging them, rubbing his cheek against Rónán’s thighs, his face laid in his crotch.

‘’Oh. Are you sure? There is no going back from this, you know?’’ Richard didn’t even have time to nod, he started trying o to tear pants off the selkie, attempting to unlace them with his teeth. Rónán laughed and patted his head, and Richard barely supressed his impatient moans as Rónán started untying his pants.

‘’Ah. So eager. Perhaps there is yet some hope for you?’’ There it was, the key to his trouble, the abomination that would  seal his fate, the best thing ever that he had to have. Rónán’s cock was long and lean, longer than Richard’s own, with nice round balls, and green pubes that tickled like grass. Richard leaned in and started rubbing his head all over it, it was warm and wet and soft and it’s musk woke something up in him.

‘’That isn’t bad. Your technique is utterly atrocious, but this is your first time after all. Nobody is born with all knowledge in the world, so don’t worry.’’ Something inside Richard quivered, something resisted, but it was quickly silenced, by choice between death and magical servant, and by sweet assuring words, and by the heavy cock whose head he was licking, shaking as he dabbed his tongue out and touched it, unable to believe how clean and fresh it felt, and gripped by fear that he would somehow displease Rónán.

‘’Yes, we can train you properly, of course. All the best things come with learning, and once I am done with you you will be as skilled as the most sought after courtesans.’’ _Fuck you, how dare you say that to me you_... But thought was cut off by far more important matters, such as Richard advancing down Rónán’s shaft, his lips wrapped around it, sucking like lollipop, slowly trying to go down but it was so hard, it was so big...

‘’Don’t get discouraged. I like you like this, it suits you well. And you aren’t half as bad as most. In fact, given this is your first time you are downright impressive.’’ Richard drowned in shame, here he was, heir to greatest duchy, war hero, prospective guard of king, dragging himself through dust to suck on cock of some fiend, and yet so did pride fill him, because this beautiful man thought well of him, and dick was so tasty...

‘’ Yes, truly. Why do you look at me like that? You know I can’t lie. In fact, I am most astonished. Do not worry, it isn’t a problem if you can’t take it all.’’ He wanted to run, run and forget this ever happened. He wanted to slide down and swallow the whole cock, bury his noses in pubes and kiss balls.

‘’Very surprised, you exceeded all of my expectations. I mean, you are downright sloppy and little too much impatient and wanton, but there is lots of potential here.’’ _Wanton, like a whore?!_ and _You really think so?_ warred in Richard, two opinions clashing like great armies.

‘’Yes, you have an incredible talent. Natural cocksucker, born to please people. Be careful not to gag.’’ But he wanted to, he wanted, needed to take him whole, he had to prove he was worthy, that he was the best, that none may compare, to show he could do this perfectly and that none may compare.

‘’That just makes your behaviour so worse... You obviously could be so, so good at making people feel good, and yet you decided to be so malicious and selfish. Well, that can’t stand, we will fix that.’’ Richard tried to growl, but as his face was stuffed with cock, it came out like weak little moan. Rónán laughed, and Richard wanted to curse him but he was too busy licking that delicious cock with his tongue, which felt so sensitive and weak, each touch making Richard tremble and shiver.

‘’You are strong and skilled fighter and so pretty, but that isn’t good enough you see? You can’t be proper knight if you aren’t just and honourable  and virtuous and don’t use your head sometimes.’’ Richard wanted to sneer, to tell this stupid creature that he knew very well what real knights were like, thank you very much, but he didn’t have time for that, he barely passed head of cock. He hadn’t even taken in head of cock!

‘’ Do you really want to rely on your family’s money and influence your whole life, without contributing to it?’’ There was nothing bad with it, that was how Richard planned to pass his life, but now shame- different sort from one that screamed how he was behaving like fool, like mutant, like Connor- rose in him, alongside shame he barely could advance even as he tried his hardest to bob up and down Rónán’s shaft.

‘’Do you really want to be just a footnote in history, another boring duke, and not celebrated in songs and epics for centuries? _’’ If I listen to you, they will sing what fag and cocksucker I was in tavern_ s, and yet for some reason that idea didn’t seem nearly so ugly. After all, Rónán couldn’t lie, and he  said Richard had talent.

‘’Do you really don’t want mothers to tell their sons to be like you, to be nobody’s idol?’’ _What would mother say_ , he thought, what would Duchess  Clarissa say, she who gushed about her son’s prowess and glared at Connor, if she saw him spit on every value she instilled in him, every law of man and God so he would get a taste of dick?

‘’I doubt so. You have potential, which must be harnessed and trained. And start of it is using your head and shutting your mouth, and we are starting with that right now.’’ _What do you know, I don’t need you_ , but that was just a whisper, and it was unimportant, because nothing else was as important as Rónán and his needs, because Richard needed to please him, to give him good time, and that was only way Richard himself would find pleasure.

‘’Shhh, my darling. You are doing amazing. Really, for the first time this is incredible.’’ _Shut up, shut up, what have you done to me_ , was but echo, because Richard now lived in dream where minute was century and where age could pass in blink of eye, and nothing mattered, he could forget his own father’s face because he was too busy revelling in shape and salty, strong taste of Rónán’s dick.

‘’I had my doubts, which you must admit are reasonable given how exactly we met, but now they are dispelled. You are really something special. Oh, what songs they will sing about you!’’ Richard’s eyes itched, he wanted to cry, because he wasn’t some twisted freak like Connor who should have been disowned at least, and because it wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t be enough until he took in at least half of Rónán’s cock, and Rónán was so good to him when Richard was such failure.

‘’You are doing fantastic. I haven’t had fun such as this in decades. Now I know I won’t regret this at all.’’ _I hope you choke, you unnatural abomination_ , Richard thought, and he had to supress gasp and giggle (not that he could voice them, with cock piercing and filling his mouth), because fairies couldn’t lie and that meant he was doing something right, he was making this beautiful man happy and that was his only purpose, only thing he was good for.

‘’You really have lovely hair. I haven’t often seen such bright colour among mortals. Some of your ancestors must have been blessed with beauty by some witch or another of my kind, and it trickled down to you.’’ Richard’s groin wept, begged for release but he couldn’t, it was straining and bulging in his breeches, making obvious tent that was at it’s peak smaller than Rónán’s half hard member, and he wanted to cum so much, but even more he wanted Rónán to slap him, to clutch his hair and pull and make mess out of it.

‘’Well, if that is true, then your ancestors 

must be disappointed in you. You don’t get gifts like that by being rude, cruel, dim and bigoted. Only curses.  Even in human world, your cruelty catches up with you at one point. But I am here now, and I will ensure that you become proper knight, and get all rewards you deserve.’’ And image found it’s way in Richard’s head, of all his ancestors and relatives, all his friends and servant, of Connor and all his other victims gathered to watch and laugh and masturbate over him.

‘’Oh, aren’t you eager little thing! You don’t really deserve this, but because this is just the start and you are already showing such promising capability, I will allow you to come this time. You didn’t even try to jack yourself off, so it is earned!  Don’t get used to it however.’’ Fuck you, who are you to order me, and he couldn’t think anymore because those words broke some seal and he was finished, current passing through him as his bulge softened and dark red stain appeared at front, far smaller than what Rónán would do, he was sure.

‘’’No, please...’’ Rónán pulled out, Richard tried to hold on, and even as some part of him wanted to scream _Finally_ and wash out his mouth he could do nothing but grab on Rónán’s clothes, look up at him with his golden brown eyes and tears that gathered in them.

‘’Oh, what is this? You aren’t satisfied? Now, don’t be so demanding, darling.’’ He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to beg like some filthy homeless cretin, he didn’t want to bother this beautiful man, but he had to, he wouldn’t be full without it, he would die of need.

‘’Please, my lord!’’  _What no how dare you make do this_ , but that voice was dying, nearly silent screech, because he was, he wanted spouse and got one, Rónán was his husband now and you had to obey your husband as if he was your father, to bow before him, understand your life belongs to him.

‘’... Well, we are off good start. Haven’t known each other for a whole day, but I am already spoiling you. But I guess this time a little snack is all right.’’ He started rubbing his dick, jerking it off in way that utterly fascinated Richard, as it wasn’t sloppy and desperate as when he did it but elegant, drawn out, somehow civilized, and snot and tears went down his face as he waited, he didn’t know how long it passed, but that it was at least twice as his erection lasted, and finally a rope of silver exploded, glinting like starlight on ocean, and Richard’s mouth opened and spread in wide smile, and he arched his head so he might catch it all.

‘’There. Are you satisfied?’’ It was better than wine, than gambling, than anything else. Richard tried to recall how it felt to come in woman, but big breasts and memory of warm pussy around him faded, was banished by strong and salty scent that pricked and tickled his tongue, by feeling of silver cum running down his face, becoming matted in his hair.

This was all he was good for.

‘’Is there... is there more of this perversity I need to undergo so I would gain a magical servant?’’ he asked, after who knows how much time passed, after Sun prepared to set, after cum dried all over him, and stood there like silver scales, like badge of honour. He tried to make his voice as disgusted and sneering as possible, but it came out quiet and needy.

‘’Why? You haven’t gotten it out of system yet?’’ It sounded innocent, confused, interested. For moment fear gripped Richard as he saw look in Rónán’s eyes- distant, detached, hungry, like that of taxidermist picking apart corpse to see what he could use.

‘’Shut up! How dare you accuse me of such depravity when you... when you...’’ It had to be some magic, how did oath even go, what did Rónán promise not to do, did it count if he cast spells on Richard beforehand, as he slept?

‘’ Well, I would like to strip you and take you raw here from behind while I gaze on that pretty face, but I think it is far too early for that. It would hurt you, to take me unprepared, and it wouldn’t be very clean.’’ That scene appeared in Richard’s head, of Rónán tearing apart his clothes and throwing him at back, using that long and beautiful cock to show him how true man has sex, legs over wide shoulders as he kissed and bit his knight, gave him what he needed, filled him up with his delicious cum... He realized he was drooling once Rónán laughed.

‘’It isn’t enough that you are fiend, no? You had to be sodomite too.’’ He spat out, and he tried to think of women he fucked, those he remembered, at least, but he could never remember feeling so tired, so hot, he could never remember feeling his bones turn so tense and aching, and everything inside his mouth was dry and tingling and it felt so, so hollow.

‘’Now you complain, but moments ago you were enjoying yourself. That is good, it may mean you don’t truly believe all that bullshit, but are just repeating what your elders told you.’’ he dared not think of his hunger, how he begged and pleaded Rónán to allow him to blow him, how ashamed he felt at his inability to deepthroat it, how he cried when he didn’t get to taste Rónán’s cum.

‘’How dare you! I am not a fag!’’ He thought of his brother, Connor who never fought and who didn’t spy on girls when they bathed and who stammered when he had to talk with that young fencing instructor, Connor who shouldn’t have been born, dumb and useless. Richard wasn’t like that, he was so much superior to men like that, and tried to cover dried stain at his breeches, which trickled down to his thights.

‘’Never said that. Now let me clean you up.’’ Rónán clapped his hands, and in flash that felt like being sprayed with cool water in middle of desert, everything was gone. Sand didn’t stick to him, his clothes didn’t reek, they weren’t crumpled, his hair was combed tidily, and... he let out quiet and slow moan when he realized silver was gone from his face, that he wouldn’t walk in village with everybody to see him like that, to point and laugh as Rónán laughed.

‘’You know, thanks would be appreciated.’’ The selkie said as he sat down on the sand, right next to Richard, close enough to feel his breath on neck.

‘’You are reason I was dirty.’’ Besides, servants weren’t supposed to expect gratitude, but to obey and please masters.

‘’Hmmph.  I suppose you have point. Should we go?’’ Suppose, as if he was some dumb child who accidentally said something that made sense. how dare he!

‘’No.’’ The pink and orange flashed across sky, and in distance clouds turned purple.

‘’It will be dusk soon.’’ Servants also shouldn’t talk so much, and point out what was obvious.

‘’I am not afraid of dark.  And you agreed to serve me, so we will go when I say so.’’ it was purely accident that he leaned into Rónán’s shoulders, that he brushed his cheeks against them, wide and developed, as if he spent whole life fighting bulls barehanded.

‘’But of course. Is there any reason why we are waiting so much to go to whether it is you sleep?’’ Rónán put his hands around Richard’s waist, and Richard decided to ignore how safe and soft it made him feel, how his heart skipped at but gentlest touch.

‘’Is any reason but my will necessary?’’ He would made very impudent servant, but Richard could always punish him. And magic was worth it, if he could get rid of opponent’s weapons or rival’s gold and crops as he did of dirt and other ( beautiful delicious precious) stuff, then it would be tolerated to some extent.

‘’... I begin to see that is what drives most of your actions. But there is one more thing we need to seal the deal.’’ And Richard’s brain was split between screaming in terror and sighing in gratitude.

‘’What now?!’’ How often would they need to do this, would he need to do this abomination before each tournament and battle, oh what did he get into, what did he do to get stuck with suck fiend...

‘’This.’’ And in time it took  Richard to blink, there was a shining golden band on ring finger of Rónán’s left hand, fragile and thin and carved with tiny markings.

‘’... I will not be carrying your ring! You wretched, twisted catamite!’’ People would see it and people would talk and there would be no children and everybody would think Richard Cagonhill married some barren wretch and that couldn’t be allowed!

‘’You will. But don’t worry, nobody will see it.’’ And before Richard could ask, he felt something thin, hard and gold wrap itself around base of his cock.

* * *

Searching for Richard was worst part of going with him anywhere. At one point or other he always ditched Connor and either found some company to gamble and fool around with, which if he interrupted them would lead to mocking and repercussions, or he was alone drinking himself to death and his ire was so easy to draw then and then- no, it wasn’t really Richard who did all those things, it was just the wine.

Perhaps he passed out somewhere, which was good because Connor would carry him to bed without trouble, but also bad because he could be in danger and if he was on beach what if tide came on and pulled him and...

And Connor wondered if he had finally lost his mind and began to hallucinate.

Richard was there, his cape and doublet and belt next to him, sitting and drowsing in lap of most beautiful man Connor had ever seen, even taking in account how non-demanding his standards had to be,  man of incredible build and rough yet elegant beauty, apparently some sailor, who was whispering in Richard’s ear, and his brother trembled.

‘’You! What are you doing, are you sneaking up on me, you ape?’’ Richard somehow spotted him and shouted, and Connor froze, partially because that tone of voice often signified that boot or stone would follow once Richard was finished throwing insults, and partially because that man locked his grey-green eyes with Connor, who managed to take in details of his face- soft, tended moustaches, sandy brown hair, strong cheekbones...

‘’Ah, you must be Connor. Greetings, young master, and forgive me for not noticing and receiving you properly.’’ Man spoke, and every word out of his mouth was music, as fine as his simple yet nice clothes of black and green wool, and Connor felt his heart trembling a bit. He got up and bowed, and Connor couldn’t help but notice his pants were unlaced, and his ehart stammered a little.

‘’Ah, it is no matter, and no need to call me  master,  really not at all, and you are?’’  Nobody called Connor master, at least not when Richard was there, because it was understood even by strangers who didn’t know their names that Richard was future duke and Connor, ugly failure stayed always in his shadow.

‘’He is right for once in his life. You have no need to address him so respectfully. Connor, this is Rónán, he has asked to be accepted in my service as one of staff, and I have decided to take mercy on him.’’ Connor decided to check if he should add auditory hallucinations on list of his issues.

‘’Are, are you drunker than usual?’’ Those were wrong words, as Richard spat out insults and tossed sand at him as he blushed,  and Connor ran back home, deciding mystery could wait for another time, what on earth possessed Richard to take on new servant, as if they didn’t have enough of them, and what force compelled him to allow one to touch him.

He slept that night, and so he had to have dreamed Rónán carrying his brother to bed like bride, Richard  tugging Rónán’s sleeve, laughter and soft words he couldn’t make out, harsh pat on his brother’s head, and wink directed. in his direction.


	2. Brownie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard's atrocious treatment of manor's servants prompts revenge of it's brownie, who decides to help Rónán discipline his unruly husband.
> 
> Contains humiliation, hand smacking, spanking, oral sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, chiding and praise kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual warnings- dub-con verging on non-con, straight to gay, Richard's abusive, bullying and classicist behavior, references to death, war, child labor and historic homophobia persecution (it's just few lines but it's mention of some awful stuff like hanging and such so).

Over following weeks, Connor and pretty much everybody else realized three things about Rónán.

First was, nobody was exactly sure what his station and job was, because he seemed able to do everything but cooking. Taking care of clothing, fishing, horses, swords, negotiations, carrying forward messages, all while being unbelievably polite and charming. He was valet and stable boy, driver and cleaner, scribe and hunter, all of it done with perfect smile and impossible charisma. By end of first week, Connor was sure that at least half of them all had crush on him.

Second was that nobody actually knew anything about him. Not where he came from, who his family was, why he wanted to be Cagonhill servant, what was his salary, not even his surname. Somehow, when they asked him, he found way to weasel out of any question, slick as an eel, giving long sentences that answered nothing until you stopped because you were ashamed of asking him anymore, given how often he repeated himself.

Third, Rónán made it absolutely clear that, without any doubt, he was first and foremost  in employ of Richard Cagonhill, and nothing could dissuade him of that idea, thank you very much for your concern.

Of course, every servant was expected to bow before The Most Honourable Marquess ofThistellen, eldest son and heir of His Grace,  Duke of Custenberg, and especially those in employ of Cagonhill family. That was after all, whole point of being servant. And of course, there were always naive girls and impressionable boys who would be taken in by Richard’s appearance and accomplishments, and even when they learned better they had to be polite and obedient. But they didn’t have to like him at all, something he made sure they didn’t, even if some tried to worm way in his graces by flattery.

Connor was pretty sure that if it wasn’t for good salary they got, and respect that came from being duke’s servants (and therefore, not that Connor was aware of it, in grasp of access to rather exclusive gossip concerning both political and personal drama, not that two were often easily separated), all of servants would rather quit than be bossed around and abused by Richard for five more minutes. In fact, Connor was pretty sure at least third of them were considering that already, because enough was enough, and no money was worth putting up with such disrespect.

Rónán, though? Rónán seemed more than pleased to work for Richard, to such extent that none knew what his salary was ( and he assured them that it didn’t matter), and Connor had feeling that Rónán would sooner disobey his father the Duke or even king than he would Richard. This had led many to question whether Rónán had been dropped at head when he was younger, or if Richard was harbouring fugitive who was desperate not to be hanged (many servants, to be honest, would be stuck doubting whether they’d rather be hanged or attend Richard again).

Even Connor, who was inclined to, and had duty to see the best in his brother, had to agree. Idea that anybody would be glad to wait on Richard and fulfill his whims was so absurd that if he didn’t witness himself how Rónán fulfilled each inane request with smile and humming, not once complaining, he would believe that whoever spouted such nonsense had obviously lost their mind. And yet here they were.

Rónán at least seemed happy, and he appeared to be good influence on Richard, and therefore a very good thing for nerves and mood of everybody around. He took it upon himself to be Richard’s servant in all things, and while Connor’s brother still complained about speed of service, and how Rónán talked and moved, he had no complaints to services themselves. Rónán washed Richard’s clothes and groomed his horses, made his bed and brought him his food. He accompanied Richard through markets and errands, and carried whatever trinket Richard brought through whole day until it was time to return, no matter how cruel late August sunlight was.

And in turn, Richard seemed calmer, and didn’t bother with snipping at others, nor did he target anybody but Rónán with his snide remarks, and his new servant had even stopped him from drinking and brawling. In fact, Richard hadn’t even visited a tavern or pub in whole week!

Connor still found it strange to believe, and rather suspicious that out of blue Richard took on servant he found on random beach in some tiny village, as well as that they were basically inseparable. But he had no time to investigate, because he was too busy meeting mayor and officials of tiny town that grew around old manor he was given, manor he had to renovate and repair with measly funds allotted to him.

Still, it was nice that Richard managed to find somebody who actually liked being around him. Somebody he was so comfortable around that he allowed himself to be teased.

Even if for life of him Connor couldn’t imagine how Richard deserved company of such earnest, sweet man.

* * *

 

Richard Cagonhill, knight of realm,  eldest son of heir of Duke of Custenberg, Marquess of Thistellen and in some circles known as hero, had to again restrain himself from impulse to commit homicide or at least serious wanton violence, for who knows which time in these last two weeks.

That damn seal! That horrible fiend! That wicked beast! It seemed that there was no way to free himself of that awful creature, insistent on stalking him wherever he went, with that horrible, white, pure smile on his face, teeth as white and shining as pearls. The selkie clung to Richard like shadow, appearing out of nowhere, mocking him with each step, each word, each glance. And Richard had to keep calm, to swallow desire to strangle him, because then bargain may be over and wicked creature could pull off some new trick, and it would not do for his other servants and his dumb brother to see him so disturbed by  one of his lessers. It could damage his shining reputation.

So he kept his rage to himself,  treated that horrid man like any other servant, gathered no suspicion ( ~~he didn’t think about what happened at beach, about when it would happen again, about chill gold band around his member~~ ).  He gave him tasks, hoping that man would fail and allow him to insult and humiliate him, but selkie performed everything properly, and thus Richard was only left to scowl and ignore him. He prayed that beast, unfamiliar with civilization would somehow show his lack of manners, but faery behaved more properly than most gentlemen Richard knew, and yet still somehow injected ridicule and teasing in every other word.

Richard couldn’t quite explain what irritated him about selkie’s behavior. He never moved a finger in inappropriate way, or said something wrong, or displayed improper face, or held disrespectful undertone to his words and yet Richard knew with burning certainty that his servant neither feared nor respected him (which in his mind had been quite the same), and it ate him up from inside. Rage and indignation bubbled inside him, burning as if he dabbed salt on oil, and ignoring it felt like picking on a scab. He wanted to go out to some pub and drink ale and beer until sunrise and then break some annoying man’s nose.

Richard was rather fond of pubs, taverns and inns. It was one of few areas where he had to admit commoners were better than nobles. There, you could get properly drunk, drink and enjoy it, without need for complicated politics, limiting manners or fear that some of your father’s rivals will use your actions at feast as way to mock you later on. In taverns, even if you didn’t take advantage of some wench, you could have fun, you could cut loose and enjoy that wonderful  taste and haze that overtook you after six hours, you could laugh as people watched in envy your gold, and when somebody demanded you apologize for spilling ale on them you could knock out his teeth.

(To be honest with himself, he never felt as alive as when he was fighting. That made him best knight, because that was what mattered most in the end,  what separated wonderful knight from his inferiors. Sure, dressing properly was important, and he supposed eloquence and gift for poetry could be sometimes somehow useful, but knight was first of all warrior, and Richard had been born one, like his father before him, and his grandfather before him, and so far back to the first Cagonhill who smashed somebody’s skull with rock and took his widow.

Richard was born to be a warrior, his father always said so. It was obvious from young age, when Richard wrestled with other children, laughed breaking toy soldiers and smashing sand castles of his cousins. When he grew little and played rough games with his brothers. When he became  squire and led his group of young pages and knights-to-be in bullying kitchen boys and those weaklings bad at combats and sons of newer barons and all other wimps. When he was a teen and went to his first hunt and immediately proved his talent by bringing back two deer and one doe. When he was knighted and won at tournament after tournament.

And then, the war. The glory, the beauty of it. It made Richard’s blood run hotter than anything, it warmed his very bones with such ecstasy that he barely kept from laughing in middle of battle. There was no music like clashing of steel when two swords met, no pleasure as when he slid blade through flesh and bone and heard his victims choking, no joy as when he watched their eyes roll and stop, heard them rasping the last, desperate breaths, watched their body go rigid and cold as odor rose around them and flies followed soon.

 ~~He felt better only once in his entire life.~~ )

''Have you thought of supporting artists? Bards perhaps?'' Voice called out, damned and cursed voice that was so melodious and rhytmic that Richard had to fight down urge to dance to it, voice as beautiful as dawn and rainbow after storm.

''Are you daft? Why would I waste my time and money on something like that?'' Richard had never had much patience for men who practiced such things, unlike Connor, to his father's delight. Art was something useless men took up to cover up how incompetent they were in the real life.

''Largesse is virtue and duty of knight, and has been so for centuries, I believe.'' Rónán answered, voice calm and  patient, pleasant and powerful enough to make broken glass soft and smooth in matter of seconds. Richard suppressed shiver,  for though selkie looked human enough, just an ordinary, if bit too handsome, man, there was _something_ in his voice and gaze that betrayed weight of centuries.

''I see neither point in you citing me tenets of chivalry, nor how it relates to me  wasting my money.'' All artists, but especially musicians had no purpose in real world, except to con out nobles from their treasures. They were parasites, barely better than pickpocketers.

''I have sworn that i will help you become great and famous knight, and I intend to honour my deal, my master.'' Words were said seriously, filled with appropriate respect, without a shadow of mockery ( ~~my master, said voice brighter and more precious than gold, and Richard breathed slower~~ ) and yet knight couldn't shake off feeling that he was being teased.

''Well, you are failing then! And you haven't answered my question! How will throwing my money at such useless people help me?'' Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised- after all, what could a fairy, and the one who lived underwater and spent half time as an animal, know of knighthood? But this was chance to admonish and humiliate Rónán, and he felt almost giddy at getting it.

''A true knight is separated from mercenary in shining armor by virtues he possesses and practices. And one of most important ones, as I am sure any of your priests would tell you, is generosity. And I thought that you would find paying bards to write ballads of your brave deeds, or painters to prduce your portraits would fall easier to you than giving money to poor and sick, widows and orphans.'' Rónán spoke, and Richard stared, surprised, because in that moment it seemed so obvious and simple enough for five year old to grasp ( ~~and something deep inside felt flattered that Rónán called him brave, or thought of what would be easy for him~~.)

''I... Generosity doesn't help you  become powerful. And why should I care for such people?'' To be generous to people like that, helpless burdens at society was worse than throwing money in ditch. But selkie was at least right that it was worse option than paying artists, even if it was shameful to demand so much for silly work anybody could do- why, give him flute or paintbrush and he could create masterpieces as well!

''Well, being beloved and respected by your subjects is always good thing for the future duke, isn't it? And good reputation is something everybody needs, and knights are supposed to help and protect others. And having bards sing songs of your kindness, and dozens spread word of how great  patron you are wouldn't hurt.'' That made sense, which meant that Richard couldn't shout at Rónán, so he did what he always did when his whims were denied by reason: he stomped out of room, slamming door hard enough that  anybody who didn't regularly go to revels with trolls would have jerked and looked around to see if some wall hadn't been blown up.

Cagonhill family had many holdings around country, and this one estate was one of, if not the smallest. A tiny village near sea shore, few fields and small forest, and miniature, decreipt manor. Oh, to fishermen who lived nearby, born and buried in barns, it had to be an incredible sight, but to Richard, used to palaces befitting his station it was barely above hovel. Three roofs and only four bedrooms, it was more fit for some meaningless baron whose family had been titled two generations ago than for duke's sons.

But then, Connor deserved nothing better than this. At least  however he ruined wouldn't be big disappointment, for once in his life- this small house, with it's cracked windows and leaking roof seemed as if it was just waiting for moment to collapse.

He continued forward, hoping to get out of this poor place and avoid his brother who, terrified by thought of remaining alone for first time in his life would attach himself to Richard's side and drain last of his patience like leech, and Rónán, who would somehow appear and find some excuse to stop him from going to tavern. And of course, to avoid servants, who numbered less than dozen, and consisted of bunch of peasant brats between eight and nineteen years of age, and an old, half-deaf crone who commanded them all...

They deserved to have their pay docked,  on account of what horrible jobs they did, when it came to keeping house clean and safe. Richard was sure that sheets in his bedroom had been changed only three days ago, and he had already noticed few rusty hinges and creaking floors. He dared not contemplate the  state of the attic. And less said about roof and chimney, the better.

This manor, if he remembered correctly, had belonged to brother-in-law of his grandmother's sister, or something like that. His father inherited it because he was only living relative left, and never once used it because he had standards. Still, he refused to sell it, partially because it would bring lots of ugly, annoying gossip, because people were sensitive about testaments and dying requests and such things, and partially because he was smart, resourceful man who would sooner or later find some use for it.

And of course, he did. In fact, he killed two birds with one stone, or more like three. A way to get Connor out of his hair and public eye, way to punish his wimpy, deviant failure of third son, and still  avoid scandal and annoying rumors by giving his son estate to run, as was proper. A failed, worthless estate, perfect for man who would never bring fame to their line, nor continue it.

(His borther dared be dissatisfied with their father.He didn't voice that, but it was obvious, present in his every word, every move, every gaze and expression. He looked like somebody who believed he was owed more than he was getting, and was hurt that he was denied it. A height of selfishness and ungratefulness.

There were men and lines with far more to lose than Michael Cagonhill, who let their sons be hanged for sodomy.)

Now, Richard had to admit, it wasn't all that bad, even with missing furniture and curtains. It was small enough that he swiftly got out, and few servants meant that he didn't have to torture his eyes by forcing them to gaze on such wretched, pox-scarred faces. Almost a blessing.

Almost, for he still couldn't avoid them. And of course, once you met them it was perfectly clear why house was in such state, and how much they were overpaid.  Incompetent and far, far more trouble then they were worth. There he was, walking through yard and minding his business, when a eleven year old girl ran into him, falling over and spilling milk over his boots.

'' Oh God, I am so sorry sir, I didn't see you, I didn't mean to...' Her voice was high pitched and nasal, and  Richard felt as if vein was going to burst at his forehead from his whining. Milk didn't soak through his boots, made to withstand downpour in trenches, nor did it stain his pants, but he still felt need to let out shrill shout and slap her across face.

''Please tell me, wench, am I size of an ant?'' He asked, and girl flinched as if burning oil was poured over her.

''What... Uh no, sir, I mean master, I mean..'' She blinked owlishly at him, biting her tongue to keep herself from landing in bigger trouble.

''Am I then invisible?'' He glared at her with such distaste that she jerked as if she had been struck with poisoned arrow.

''No, of course not, sir knight..'' The girl answered,for she was sure this was either sarcasm or some phrase of speech, both of which she had trouble with, but she couldn't let a noble like master Cagonhill get offended because of that. Her mother needed all money she could get.

''Ah, well that makes me glad. Then I must presume you are blind?'' He stepped forward, and girl tensed as if some great beast had lurched towards her, intent on snapping her in  half like twig.

''No, I, I am sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention, it won't happen again, I-aaaaah I'm sorry sir stop, don't please...''  Her head was still ringing from when she crashed in strong torso, and her skirt had been stained with dirt and soaked with warm milk, which dribbled through fabric and soiled her bruised skin, and small cut on her palms began bleeding when noble knight took her mousy plait and _tugged_.

''  Don't presume to tell me what I can do or not. And allowing yourself to stop paying attention in middle of work? What have your parents been teaching you? You are aware that when you are on the job, nothing else takes precedence, I hope? If I ever let my mind wander off like that in middle of my job once, I'd most likely be dead already.'' His grip was as strong as iron, and he pulled hard enough that girl was partially surprised her scalp didn't already get torn off.

'' You don't face such risk, but you are in danger of getting fired from rather perspective position. Getting kicked out at that young age would surely sour your chances for future employement, don't you? Though I doubt there are many job offers waiting for you in place as tiny as this.'' Girl nodded weakly as tears gathered at corners of her eyes, and knight's expression grew darker and his voice louder, sharper, feeling like searing coals. Shame and fear fought for right to suffocate her.

''Now, there is no use for crying over spilled milk. Back at my keep, and my father's home, you would already be flying out with no reccomendation whatsoever, as is right to do with somebody so useless, and impudent enough to waste ur property. But as you are very, very lucky, my youngest brother, who is your new master is soft-hearted fool. I am sure that if you scurry off and promptly apologise, looking him in eyes as you don't deign to respect me,  you will keep your job. Am I clear, or do you need to have it drawn?'' He shook girl, who promptly nooded, and satisfied he loosened his grip, and let her fal.

''Faster, faster! If you are quick enough he may not even reduce your pay... much. And have somebody mop up this mess you made!'' He shouted as girl took off, and laughed as she picked up quite an impressive pace.

Satisfied with lecture he gave her, his spirit very much raised and much more jolly after he released his frustrations, Richard continued on his way. He exited manor's yard and passed it's barn and stables, and entered thing line of trees that separated manor from villages down the hill, too few of them to name them a wood.

And yet, somehow he got lost. Despite fact that there were barely four or five rows of trees between him and village, and that he could see road and houses bathed in sun right through branches, he was unable to exit wood, as if he was walking in place. No matter how much he was walking, or how fast, he seemed unable to progress forward, as if somebody was pulling village away and planting more and more trees as he went on.

Confused and annoyed, Richard didn't even notice when he stepped off the beaten path, his feet stepping over the edge of road and falling on dry, thin place grass. The very moment it happened, he found himself in some strange, other place, road lost and neither manor nor village in sight, slope of hill turned low and even as in a meadow.

Trees grew strong and great here, their trunks fat and branches spreading wide, their crowns full of emerald leaves, not a glimpse of sky possible, yet he still saw everything perfectly clear, as if he was standing in daylight. The grass was thick and fresh, and sprinkled through with small, budding wildflowers, as if it was early March. There seemed to be no end to the forest, great trees stretching on into eternity. And that wasn't all.

The air here was different, as unfamiliar as foreign language, and as exciting as woman unconquered. It felt strange and beautiful, unlike anything else he had felt ever before, rich and powerful, as old and fresh as skies must have felt at dawn of world. Some people might have felt need to let it wholly fill their lungs, and lay down on grass and remain at peace for rest of the ternity.

Those people didn't have love for taverns and brawls like Richard did.

''You!!!" He screamed at trees, stomping down with his foot, taking pleasure in tearing apart some unfortunate violets that found themselves to nearby, fighting down urge to take out his sword and start cutting up branches left and right.

''You foul fiend! You deviant, useless excuse of a servant! Stop with these tricks before I get to you ad strangle you, you sick beast of seas!'' What nerve, what gall, to treat his master that way! Magic or not, he would skewer that damned creature once he got hold of him, even if he had to suffer hundred death curses!

''... Weeell, I don't know have a barest idea he is getting out of this thing you two have going on, but it has to be mighty good stuff, 'cause I wouldn't allow mortal seeking my help to talk like that to me for even fifty firstborns, and all milk in the world too.'' The unfamiliar voice was deep and rough, and it was as loud as wooden plank shattering in two, and coming from silence of woods it felt as pounding as hit of hammer. Richard turned around in circle, yet there was nobody around, and he couldn't place where voice was coming from.

''Show yourself, you wicked thing! Or are you too cowardly?'' Richard didn't have time to pull out his sword, before he was sent flying, some unseen force pushing him forward, sending him stumbling over the ground. He didn't get hurt badly, nothing was broken or bruised or bleeding, but his body did ache and his sword got lost among roots and bushes.

'' Hear, hear, what this little rascal is babling about! Wicked thing, he says! Nine hundred and thirteen years and I've never been so insulted!'' Finally, source of voice appeared ( ~~not half as beautiful as Richard expected/hoped/supposed him to be~~ ). A small creature, barely coming up to his chest, dressed in clothes so old and horrible that calling them rags would be insult to rags. It's skin was dull reddish-orange, colour of rust and bricks,  it's beard and hair long, unruly, filled with glass shards and old coins, it's eyes colour of moss and ivy, it's face fat, squashed and ratlike, and instead of hat it had nest on head.

''It's no insult if it is true. I am not one going around tormenting innocent bypassers with unholy powers.'' Rascal, this overgrown rat had called him! Oh, when he got his hands around its neck... but as Richard lurched forward, creature disappeared, and suddenly Richard was cast away by invisible force again, his face dragged through grass.

'' Don't know anything about unholy powers, doubt you do either. But tormenting innocents... Isn't that what you have been doing whole time since you got here?'' Creature's eyes were full of disgust, but it's face remained as expressive as a wall.

''What are you talking about?'' He wanted to attack it again, but same force that sent him rolling now prevented him from moving. It was as if he was chained down by wind, unable to fully raise his hands, unable to get up from ground, invisible restraints keeping him down.

'' You really got no idea, huh? What was that over there in the yard, what you put poor little Margaret through?'' And now, that ugly, rodentlike face creased, pulling off grimace that revealed it's big, strong teeth, white as marble.

''I have no idea what you are babbling about.'' This was all Rónán's fault, Richard decided. He had lived normal, carefree life before that damned creature entered and ruined it, and now it eemed that rest of it's kind followed his suite.

''That poor lass you lashed out on so cruelly, barely fifteen minutes ago? You don't remember? Do you have brain of goldfish, or are you just that used to bullying people?'' Creature stated, green irises (that had pupil slit like cat's, he realized now) widening as it stared at him.

''That is what this all is about? That some incompetent brat got lecture, and much lighter than she deserved? I fail to see how that is any of your busi-aaaah!'' Richard cried out, as suddenly creature slapped him without moving it's hand, as his cheek stang, as if slammed by air itself, his head twisting bit.

''What happens in this house, at this estate, to these people is very much my business, you little scullion. In fact, you might as well say that their safety and well-being is purpose of my life.'' Creature spat out through it's lipless mouth, and maybe it was trick of light but it seemed as if it's hair raised up, and that it's eyes flashed black for moment.

''Well, then let me offer you my sincerest sympathy. Must be quite disgusting and meaningless life, if protecting these lowborn idiots is point of it.''  It wasn't mistake, not this time- creature's eyes truly turned as dark as woodworms, and it's short fingers formed fist as it's lidless eyes narrowed. For moment it seemed that it would strike down Richard with it's bare hands, before smell of oil and brine and seaweed and wet fur filled air ~~(it felt perfect, safe, exciting).~~

''Now, I know that holding your tongue comes even harder to you than upholding your manner, but could you please stop antagonizing brownie whose home granted us hospitality further than you already have?'' And there he was, Rónán, his human flamour gone, skin tanned and glistening as if covered in oil and water, hair green as kelp and same texture as fur, face beautiful beyond belief and it's bone structure unlike in any  human, dressed in torn sailor clothes of teal and blue, back covered with sealskin, and his eyes were as wide and warm and brown as in a seal.

''You!  What are you doing there, standing like that? Help me, you good for nothing beast!'' Richard spat out, blushing as Rónán admonished him, as he tried not too gaze to long at that strange and beautiful face.

''Calm down, my little knight. As you know, I swore that I would save you if you were in deadly danger, and that I will defend you from reasonless cruelty of my people. And as far as I can see, you are neither in fatal danger, nor is mister Thomsin acting unprovoked.''  _Liar_ , Richard wanted to shout, but due to something that could only be called miracle decided to keep his mouth shut at least this one time.

''Damn right I am not. This lad of yours had been pest since he arrived, annoying and demeaning  my people and constantly insulting my house. But he crossed line now. Scared my poor Margaret witless, the girl burst in tears as he threatened to fir her and pulled her by hair as she laid on the ground.'' It seemed as steam would raise from creature- Thomson's- ears, and Rónán looked annoyed but not surprised, but Richard decided that swallowing down one accusations had been too much.

''She ran in me and spilled milk on my boots. I had servants fired for less than that. And what you mean, your house, your people? They belong to my family! And how do you know it? Are you conspiring with that creature?'' He shouted at two fairies, who were standing left and right of him as he remained on ground, both of them looking down on him.

'' We already know your temper is atrocious and your patience thin, and your character wholly unbecoming of knight and protector of realm. No need to incriminate yourself further. And _he_ and I could not conspire anything ever if we felt need to. Mister Thomson here is a brownie, fey tasked with guarding certain homes and their inhabitants. We met once, when I came to estate, to ask his permission to enter his domain, as is custom.'' Rónán explained, in that melodious voice of his, and Richard grit his teeth at insults leveled against him, as he lowered his head.

''Brownie? Those are cleaning fairies bound to house, who depart when you leave out clothing for them, right? Doesn't that mean he belongs to my family, that he is our servant?'' Richard asked, as he dredged up folktales he knew from his memory, and thought of how it sounded as wonderful bargain- immortal, invisible servant who never asked for pay or even plainest clothes to wear.

Rónán sighed.

''I. Do. Not. Belong. To. Anybody. And I certainly don't have to serve and obey people I never met, who claim my manor as their possession yet never visit it, much less tend to it! My duty is to keep house and it's inhabitants, one who care for it safe and healthy, and it doesn't matter who humans think that land belongs to! You could be king and I would still be within my rights to turn you in bug for mistreating my wards!'' Thomson shouted, his eyes bulging as he waved his fists, and Richard shrank down, a slip of fear worming it's way into him, as it did in all people when they made mistake of calling one of Fair folk fairies.

'' While I understand the desire,and certainly can't deny it would be justified, would you be as kind as to not do that. I am afraid it would really undermine my own contract with him.'' Rónán asked, voice bit more hurried than before, but face just as calm even as Richard threw him poisonous looks.

''Hmmph.  What has he got over you? I can't imagine single reason why you would tolerate such behavior from him,  and why you would leave sea for a an, even if you owe him lifedebt?'' Thomsin asked, squinting as he put his hands on his hips

''Ah... It is complicated, but let us just say that it began with him seeking bride, and that I decided to work on him, when i saw how he reacted when he didn't get what he expected.'' It was several moments before Rónán answered, voice softer and quiter, and he refused to meet Richard's eyes, and held on his skin. Richard counted it as a single victory he got over selkie.

''Oh. Oh! Oh, hearth and broom, I am so sorry! Are you all right, what am I asking, of course you can't be well, did he do anything? Do you need help with getting rid of him? I may not be much but I know some pretty nasty tricks. Freely given, of course.'' Thomsin's face softened and his hands flew up to his mouth as he looked at Rónán, and then his gaze wandered to Richard, giving him wicked scowl that sent Richard scuttling, running- only he couldn't get away, because invisible force still held him.

''That is incredibly generous of you, mister Thomson, especially after my failure to keep him in line. Truly, I have no words to express my gratitude, and I am sure you are far too humble about your abilities- your spell with this wood being prime example. But no, there is no need for that. Me and my little lordling have reached deal, haven't we?'' Rónán asked, and even as Richard sputtered and burned with shame until he was nearly as red in face as he was in hair and beard, he quickly nodded when Thomson squinted at him, baring his teeth as his eyes turned green again.

'' Oh, that's nothing, just a little thing I picked up from my great-grandmother. She was a forest nymph you see, hailing from Broceliande. And I'd say you are one who is far too generous. After all, why are you wasting time and humiliating yourself by being servant of such man?'' Richard had to laugh at that, at ridiculous idea that damned selkie was one suffering and getting nothing out of this arrangement, which earned him another slap.

''We have actually struck two bargains, after I showed him error of his ways, and what other options I had of dealing with him. And I know he doesn't look like that, but there is actually working brain in that pretty little head. You see, I want to make him understand that what he did and how he behaves is wrong, and put that potential he possesses to good use.'' Richard's blood was boiling, his face hot enough to prepare omellete on it, but he kept quiet, as if compelled by spell as Thomsin seemingly muttered potential for what.

''You see, he wants to be, and fancies himself to already be, a great knight, like in ballads. But as I am sure you have seen, he doesn't really possess many qualities of true knight. He has a title and money, and from what I have heard actually does possess considerable martial prowess ( so that at least isn't delusion of inflated ego), and bonus of good looks, but as for everything else...'' Richard wanted to die of shame, and to take that damned selkie with him! How dare he, Richard was greatest knight of his generation, and maybe of previous two too!

''Hah! Aye, too generous again! Back in old days, or in our homeland he wouldn't be allowed to lick boots of squires!''  Thomsin laughed, deep and bellowing, and Richard thought of squires he tasked with countless requests, and of how he laughed at them, and how he broke their arms when they adred stand up to him.

''Exactly. Therefore, I decided to take pity on him, and train him into something resembling proper knight, and not stop until his reputation becomes worthy of songs- and is deserved, of course. It seems to me that his behavior is very much product of being spoiled far too much and emulating bad examples without thinking ( he does that a lot as I am sure you noticed). I think he is still young enough, and thus not too set in his atrocious ways, so that I could fix him, and make him worthy of title he bears.

Besides, from what I understood from people like him, that is duty of husband. To guide and protect his partner, whose intelligence and moral integrity are always at risk.'' No. No, this had to be some joke, some bad dream, no man could, should be in such situation, and least of all him, it was wrong and insane and made no sense...

(His father talked like tha about his mother, sometimes, as did his uncle about his aunt, and his grandfather about his grandmother, and his engaged friends about their intended...

You couldn't have two husbands, because in marriage one partner earned money and led family and other obeyed. That was how it worked.)

''Hey! Cut that crap! Don't talk about me like that! I am not your wife!'' Richard shouted, trying again to jump at one of fae before he was again knocked to ground. Thomsin laughed for quite some time, watching that, and Richard thought he saw tears pouring out of his eyes.

''Oh my! Roof and basement, brick and threshold, I see, I see! Oh yes, must be taxing and amusing, having such rotten boy like him for husband! You are truly saint of patience, mister Rónán!'' Thomsin sounded like Richard's tutors, like his father when his brother Charles informed him that his wife had miscarried again.

Fairies couldn't lie. Everybody knew that. Was it true, then? Was he truly bad knight? Was he such burden that he needed fairy to fix him? ~~Were they truly married?~~

''I am really sorry for his behavior, mister Thomsin. I will make reparations to you and your people  however possible.'' Rónán said, curtsiying to this dirty thing, this overgrown rag in rats, not paying attention to Richard at all.

''No need for that. After all, it isn't you ruining everybody's day and acting like bullying brat. I myself am sorry for hitting your spouse, iI had no right at that.'' He truly sounded like Richard's father, few times he got drunk and mad and struck some lesser noblewoman or servant. Apologizing to her husband, for possibility he might have ruined their property.

Richard's cheek still stung.

''Still, I should have restrained him better, but alas I am still new to this, and rather soft on him. Would you apologize to mister Thomsin,my little knight?'' And finally, finally Rónán turned to and talked to Richard ~~whose stomach filled with butterflies and heart skipped beat.~~

'' What! No, never! How dare you ask that, you foul fiend! He hit me!'' Richard whined, and Rónán raised a sea green eyebrow.

'' Your cheek isn't even pink. It couldn't have hurt a lot. Why are you whining?'' Richard knew that face. he wore it so many times, during tournaments, brawls, during ''training'' sessions he had with Connor. he knew that cold disbelief in eyes, that particular heartless smile, that tone of voice that implied victim was exxagerating or lying.

'' Yeah? Well why don't you try some?'' Richard spat out, grimacing for whole time he was standing on all fours like dog, and his knees had started to hurt.

''Excellent idea! Mister Thomsin, please show me how you hit my lordling. Hit me as many times as you did him.'' And brownie did so. Rónán's head whipped left once, twice, and his body was tossed around,  moving in same way as Richard's did, yet knight couldn't triumph for Rónán let out not a single sound, and rose up without trouble.

''This was it? Are you joking? To hear you I would think you had never been hit in your whole life.'' Rónán spoke, crossing his arms, leveling gaze at Richard that prompted young knight to justify himself.

'' I have not! Nobody ever hit me!'' He had whipping boy for that, for who would lay hand on duke's son?

''But you participated in war? And tournaments? And trained to fight? or was that lie? I won't be angry much- then it would mean all those  rumors about you picking fights with other children and starting brawls were also lies.'' Rónán asked, arching his green eyebrow, and Richard cursed him and fairy's literal thinking.

''No! But that is different! That is fighting! Nobody ever hit me like that! Not even my father!'' And Michael Cagonhill had heavy hand, all right. Richard and his wife never experienced it, but he saw beatings Connor received, and sometimes Edgar.

''Well, usually I'd say that's some great parenting right there, and that more people should follow his example, but I can't say I can imagine you being well-behaved child. In fact, you still aren't. You are just brat who was never taught about manners and consequences, you have just grown tall and gotten beard.  A little thrashing might have fixed that...'' And then brownie smiled, and Rónán met his gaze, and two of them grinned while Richard gaped.

''What are you two fiends planning...'' He asked as Rónán came nearer and put his hand on Richard's head, petting him, trailing his fingers through red hairs, tracing his scalp with his nails ~~and Richard almost melted.~~

''Now my dear, please close that filthy mouth before it lands you in bigger trouble- we will get soap, if we must. And take off your gloves, please.'' And for moment  Richard wanted to deny him, to fight him, but Rónán's words felt like tiny needles stabbing his neck, and his touch was _so, so nice_ , and so Richard frowned  and hesitantly listened.

''Wait, not like that. Take them off with your mouth. Awww, you are so cute when you are pouting. Do it quickly and I might let you lick my fingers next.'' And Richard wanted to snap at him, tell him what exactly he thought of Rónán and his sick, dirty games, but selkie's fingers felt so soft yet strong and were so gentle and each touch made him shiver and feel  better, pain in knees was gone and his thoughts were clearer, all unnecessary musings gone, and he remembered their wonderful taste, and he listened becaus good boys get rewards.

His hands were shaking as he brought them to his lips, which were _not_ pouting, and set finger on them, softly and with great trepidation, as if they would melt. He knew he was supposed to just pull them off, and soon or his punishment would be worse ( _and Rónán wouldn't fuck him with his own!!!_ ), but he couldn't resist. He licked his fingertips and tried to stifle a whine, but judging from Thomsin's cackle he hadn't succeeded.

He didn't expect leather to taste well, but he felt as if somebody had forced him to swallow vinegar. Quickly, guided by possibility Rónán might let him experience pleasure through his fingers, which continued  trailing softly, carefully through his hair, he caught gloves with his teeth, careful to just bite at tip, not graze his own nail or fingerpad, and after some struggling that surely resembled dog trying to learn to swim, managed to pull it off.

Petting increased, became slower, stronger, and Richard breathed more heavily, and then Rónán said something he didn't register but it sounded _so, so proud_ and _happy_ , so he repeated action. That prompted a short burst of genuine laugh from selkie, who put his other hand near Richard's cheek. Like obedient puppy, Richard turned his headand slightly opened his mouth, letting glove fall in selkie's hand _(one with ring, he noticed)._

Richard moved his head bit, his tongue falling out as he tried to lick selkie's fingers, but Rónán swiftly removed them from knight's reach. Another moan broke out, though he tried to bury it,  and before he knew what he was doing Richard pushed his own finger inside, teasing flesh of his cheeks, trailing it over his pearly teeth, putting it under his tongue.

Big mistake. It felt awful, so awful that he let out shrill, high pitched whine, not caring if whole world heard him. For they didn't make him feel full and worthwhile as Rónán's, weren't as sweet and wonderful and caring. There was no plesure there, it felt as if he was forcing old, cold fishbone down his throat, as if he was trying to coat his mouth with sawdust. he almost choked on them!

''Now rascal, we will try something, to see if there is still hope for you.  Raise your hands.'' Richard felt pressure of invisible force loosen, and he was allowed to raise up to kneeling, as Thomsin held out a thin,long, smooth stick in his hand. Richard's eyes went wide, and he twisted around, looking incredolously at Rónán.

'' Do it, my dear, and you might get reward after all. If not, it will be worse for you.'' Rónán smiled, teeth as white as salt mounds, and it was so beautiful Richard would have bared his throat to knife for sake of it.

''One.'' Rónán called out, and stick flew from Thomsin's hand, precise and elegant to such amount that some might have counted it as art (and perhaps it was, for who knows how fae treat spells and skill in magic), and swiftly and mercilessly struck Richard across palms.

''Two.'' Richard cried out, screaming as he had never before in his life, not even few times he had been stabbed during war. This pain was sharp and stinging, but nothing worth letting out scream that would have scared all nearby birds in flying away to next country.

''Three.'' He tried to bite his tongue, to stop embarassing screams from exiting his throat, but he was afraid he would bite through it. So he huffed and shouted as stick relentlessly went forward with punishment.

''Four.'' He tried to move his hands, even though he knew it would just prolong his punishment, but he couldn't. Thomsin's magic had restrained him yet again.

''Five.'' Stick beat him over his fingers, and over his palms. It left long, thin pink stripes across his hands, pain seemingly reaching through skin and flesh to bones themselves. It felt for moment as if he would never use his hands again.

''Six.''  He stared at two fae, unable to speak, begging for mercy with his face, but they were unmoveable. His selkie's face betrayed passive interest, while brownie's showed pure glee.

''Seven.'' His hands couldn't even shake. Magic had bound them, and there was no way to deny it. They could take sword and chop them off and and he wouldn't be able to move them- and it was good thing, because if he could he'd already be flailing them.

''Eight.'' It wasn't just physical pain that hurt him. Oh, it had been horrible, blistering and hot, scrapping away skin and smashing at his nerves. But Richard cried because he knew how pathetic he must have looked, in his expensive doublet and boots, his noble attire, kneeling on ground while his palms were stricken with stick.

''Nine.'' It didn't last a long time. Each strike followed other in rapid succesion, almost making him amazed that Rónán managed to call out number before next. But to Richard, who was on verge of tears, it seemed as if each hit lasted hours, and moments between two strikes days. He remembered his whipping boy, kneeling as Richard's tutors beat him for heir's unfinished homework, and how his lip wobbled but never did anything more than ragged breath pass out of his mouth, even after thirty strikes.

He was ten.

''Ten.'' And finally it was over. Richard let out one more scream, and then cursed stick was gone, and knight could lower his hands, stinging, unable to close a fist, palms as pink as porks, as tears threatened to spill ~~(even more)~~ , and his manly, sword-calloused hands felt so soft and delicate.

''There, there. It wasn't so bad, you did good. I hope that now you won't go around scaring little girls to feel important.'' And then everything was all right, and all bad things were gone, because Rónán was there, petting his hair in way that made it as if he was proud of him, blowing breath that felt like typhoon on Richard's palms which immediately stopped hurting.

Richard didn't feel touched. And he managed to keep enough composure to avoid thanking him.

''Cried like little baby. Haven't had this much fun in three hundred and fifty seven years!'' Thomsin cried out, sounding like delighted crow on battlefield, and Richard mumbled something that might have been justification or curse, but didn't manage to really say it because his cheek was wet and then Rónán was wiping it and Richard wanted to lick that tender

''Could have been worse.'' Rónán said, and he sounded so sure, and Richard was torn whether to interpret that as compliment or that Rónán saw him as more pathetic than preteen, and whether to be insulted or relieved he was defending him.

''Well, you are right. Expected him to start sobbing and begging and try to run away after first flick.'' And anger burned bright in Richard, and again need to show them who was best knight and warrior of generation arose, but was buried by single glance from Thomsin, which told him that brownie wasn't yet convinced Richard wouldn't start begging like lowest coward, like naughty boy caught red handed by his tutors, like dog kicked by his trainers.

''I told you, he has potential.'' There was pride in that word, so much pride, pride even Richard's father never exhibited, and it quitened all unrest in him. He lowered his head and turned away from Rónán, unwilling to show any gratitude to man who put him through such misery.

~~(Selkie still held his hand.)~~ ~~~~

''A piece of advice- next time don't be so soft on him. Make him count them, and each time he tries to lower hands and  or misses counting, start again from scratch.'' _No, stop, don't give him ideas_ , he wanted to shout, but it was hopeless, because that was standard practice with unruly children, and sooner or later Rónán would have done it.

''Oh, you are truly wonderful man, mister Thomsin.  I am grateful for that. Do you think lesson has sank in yet?'' _Yes, yes_ , he wanted to lie, just as he lied to his tutors as his whiping boy nursed his wounds, and only thing he realized was that if it was him getting lashings, he would next time make sure not to be caught.

''Honestly? I believe that it will take years of such treatment before he is passably not awful. And I think, given how late his education in acceptable behavior is, that this lesson hasn't done much. May have even been waste of time.'' _What was then the point of this all_ , he wanted to scream, but couldn't, because his pride burned at brownie's wording, at way he looked at him, as if Richard was scum, the dirt on road, some useless stablehand brat.

''I see. What you propose?'' What more could that wicked creature propose, what new shame and horror could be hoisted upon him, what more cruelty would he have to bear for giving one servant what she deserved?

''Both of us have been far too lax, giving him far more credit than he deserves. He is a rotten brat that never learnt to respect others, who throws tantrums and breaks things when he doesn't get what he wants. A bully who thinks everybody should bow before him. There is only one way to treat such behavior.'' Bully. Brat. Those were words Connor and his friends sometimes called him when they didn't know better, words his tutors spoke when they thought nobody could hear them.

Fairies didn't lie.

''And that would be?'' _Oh God, oh God_ , Richard thought as he saw Rónán's cruel smile, as he saw glinting in Thomsin's eyes, way they looked at him as if it should be obvious what would be his fate.

''Take off your pants, boy.'' No. Impossible. Must be some joke. He must be hearing wrongly. It couldn't be happening. Not to him. They were joking. They had to be. He couldn't fall like that, he'd be same as Connor.

~~(Would it feel as fulfilling, as when~~ ~~Rónán filled his mouth?)~~ ~~~~

''What?! No!'' He jumped, ready to fight, because he wouldn't humiliate himself like that, he wouldn't sin, he was also pretty certain that was crime. So he stood there, flailing his arms, looking at selkie with mouth open wide and with desperate prayer in his brown, tear/ready eyes, irises enlargened beyond what some would think possible.

''They are coming off either way.  But I think you'd prefer to do it yourself.'' Rónán was right.  If he was to be taken from behind, as he hhad taken so many women as they groaned and cried, at least he could keep some dignity.

''Well, at least you can do something right. Now stand over by that tree, and put your hands on back of your head.'' Thomsin snorted, and Richard cast him questioning gaze (wouldn't it be better to be bent over something, or made to ride them), before he bent down his head and removed his belt, raised his white tunic and started rolling down his pants, revealing shapely, tanned legs, all elegant muscle covered by fine red hairs.

''Excuse me for interrupting , mister Thomsin, but I'd prefer for him to keep them on his sack. Not that I doubt your precision, but I think he will turn out to be rather wiggly, and injure himself.'' Richard limped towards nearest tree, covering his privates as if his father caught him fooling around with maids, trying to hide atrocious shackle _(wedding band, my ring!)_ Rónán placed on base of his cock.

''Eh, your husband, your call. You can train him up later, I suppose. Not that he will need those balls of his ever again, if I am right.'' What were they talking about? Would his balls get hurt during ''roll in hay'' _(yes, please, they are yours, hurt me)_? Were they planning o castrate him? But who would then continue the line, how could he inherit without children (he would have so many, he tested it already).

 _Oh no, no it's even worse, please fuck me_... Thomsin raised stick.

''Oh, hearth and broom! You are really going all way out, aren't you?'' Brownie burst out in bellowing lugh once Richard let out a squeal and started flailing his arms, letting him see golden ring wrapped around base of knight's cock.  Richard wanted to protest, but Thomsin waved his stick and Rónán gave him pointed look that sent him whimpering, and turning his face to tree.

''What sort of husband would I be if I didn't provide the wedding bands?'' Richard turned around, and waited, as his pants slowly skid below knees (he almost fell while walking like that), his palms shielding his balls, shivering as he waited for his punishment.

''How careful you are. If you aren't aware, though, you can do much better.'' The stick flew, as merciless and relentless as ever before. In one swift, decisive move it struck Richard across buttoscks, and sent him howling and screeching as if he had been branded with hot iron.

~~(He cried. He never cried from dissappointment before. He had never wanted to prove himself to somebody so much.)~~

''Maybe. But I like to think I am exactly sort of spouse my little lordling deserves.'' One, two, three, fifteen, twenty two- he couldn't count them anymore,  swats were landing faster and faster, smacking him at least thrice in a minute, and picking up faster and faster pace.

''Got to wonder, how will you deal with it when he starts seeking bride- human one this time, I hope, for his sake? Humans here are still so backwards, governed by inane rules, and marriages between men aren't really accepted.'' He had seen children get spanked before, of course. With stick and paddle and branch and hand, and he saw how they wept, heard how they screamed, and he giggled, knowing he will never have to fear that happening to him.  Now he wept, knowing that any of those children kept better composure than him.

''I know, he informed me of that, and why I was deviant heathen for not finding it dirty and sinful. Many times over these three weeks in fact.  Failed to convince me that he hates sight of my body so much, though.'' His ass was always good one. Big, but not horrendously so, nicely shaped and strong, but also soft, a perfect buble. Oh, how it jumped and clapped as stick beat down on it, as it left thin, cruel stripes all over it.

''Three weeks? Oh that explains everything!  Newlyweds on their honeymoon! No surprise you are so soft on him. You need to take reins soon, though, or you will spoil him even more.'' He wiggled, trying to escape. he didn't mean to, he knew it would probably make things worse, ~~(make him even more of a bad boy)~~ but he couldn't stop. But it was useless, for stick couldn't be fooled, for it followed each of his steps, laying down it's might on Richard's behind.

~~(His boner rose to it's full might.)~~

'' We wil see. I believe that kindness and affection for spouse are mandatory, at least so he would have incentive to make progress. We will have to establish some strict rules later, of course, but I believe that as husband, it is my duty to tend to his well-being and shower him with praise when earned.'' It turned pink, and then red, and Richard expected skin to have cracked and bled, but it didn't, it wasn't strong enough hit to break skin, yet it still felt as if he was burning, and hopeless whines and moans escaped his mouth as tears slid down and down...

''I doubt he considered that when he decided to get himself bride. Or that he will in few years.'' Sometimes, stick wandered down to his thighs, but otherwise it kept devout attention to it's primary target, Richard's cheeks giggling with each smack, as he gripped his balls so much that it started to hurt.

''That remains to be seen. If he makes good progress, I might allow him to take on wife, once I can fully trust that he won't be harmful to her. If situation pressures him to get married, even if I don't approve it, then I will do my best to find him wife that will join me in reeducating him.'' Pain wasn't worst of it all, though it burned, though it almost sent him in hysterical spasms. For first time he was grateful for magic that dragged him away from path to this weird forest, so that nobody could see him wailing like a baby.

''Either way she will be aware of arrangement, right?'' He spread his legs and bent his back, he shook as stick continued it's rampage, each cry emiting pathetic sob from knight's mouth, and he feared ~~(and hoped, both for two reasons that were polar opposites)~~ that this would become practice for him and Rónán, and that Rónán would try out other tools to discipline him.

''But of course. It wouldn't be fair to her otherwise, and it would probably constitute me failing to uphold my part of bargain- fidelity, honesty and proper deference to lady are some of staples of chivalry.'' Perhaps no child in the world had sobbed and whined and wailed as Richard Cagonhill did, as pain that was soon becoming pleasure overtook him, as he screamed, voice shrill and funny, as he imagined stick becoming ruler and himself bent over the knee.

''Doubt he ever upheld them. In fact, I don't believe he even knows what chivalry is.'' His ass was red and pulsing, and stick gave few final smacks before it stopped, and Richard collapsed on ground, trying to get up but getting tangled in his pants, and then screamed  as if cannibal giants were pursuing him, as grass itched his bottom.

''Like I said, he is knight in name only.''Words were said with attention, and soon finger gently wiped away tears, Rónán licking them as his other hand petted Richard's disheveled, sweat-slick hair, as knight stared at his rough, contorting tongue, as his lips wobbled.

''What of marital duties? How he fares on that front?'' His words froze Richard, who shook for moment before getting to his knees, because it hurt less that way, and because it simply felt _right._

''Well, after all help you have given us, I think you deserve demonstration. Husband, let mister Thomsin pleasure himself, if he wants to of course.'' Thomsin grinned, and from somewhere within his rags pulled out a cock, bit smaller but lot thicker than Richard's, red as brick. Richard felt awful, like sinner, like freak, like traitor as he couldn't stop staring, and then Rónán petted him at neck and that red dick was center of his world, the ultimate fixation, and drool started to collect at edges of his mouth.

''Again, you are too generous, mister Rónán. Open that mouth, you little rascal, we are finally going to put it to some good use today.'' He tried to get up, and failed, again tangled by his own pants, but that didn't matter because only one thing did, and so he crawled, as everything else disappeared and he couldn't even get angry because of lingering pain in his backside.

''So? What you say?'' Thomsin took him by jaw, pressing thumb at patch of red beard at Richard's chin, and pried it open, pushing his cock inside, scratching Richard when he tried to lick his fingers, when he tried to take more, to swallow it down his cock, to fill his throat with it, to bury his nose in grey pubes of shorter man.

''... Well, to be honest, I am let down. Given shit you have to tolerate from him, I expected something mind-blowing. It's not too bad, but meh, I had much better. Average, you know. Good but barely.'' His tunic and pants dragged down through dirt, and Richard had almost to grouch, but that didn't matter, only two things were important. First, that he was feeling so, so good, as if he was given something he never realized he was missing, as if he was doing what he had been born for, as he wrapped his lips around thick cock and licked it's head, sucked on it like babe on mother's teat.

Second, anger and shame at being reduced to this, to this lowly, forbidden state, trying to remember how it felt when he was getting blowjobs from tavern wenches and apply it lest..

~~(Lest he further dissappoint people who gave him such wonderful gifts. Lest Thomsin take out his dick. Lest he proves failure again.)~~

''Would you believe that this is his second time in life taking cock in mouth?'' _Second, and hopefully last_ , Richard thought, as he sucked, as desperate as thirsty man in desert, as fish on dry land, as he tried to take in more and more, as he became aware this was his most solemn duty and that if he failed it he was truly good for nothing.

''No. Way. You must be  joking.'' Thomsin's voice was incredulous, and Rónán proudly nodded, and Richard blushed as his cheeks turned numb from sucking.

''It is true. In fact, this is his second time taking cock in himself at all.'' _It could have been third_ , treacherous voice from inside thought, and he was repulsed by thought, and used that revulsion to grant him strength to advance down Thomsin's length as brownie stared at selkie with shock.

''You really honor me, mister Rónán. That is big gift to give to stranger like me.'' Thomsin gripped Richard's head, tangling his fingers in red hairs, pulling him down, and for first time since they met knight was grateful to him.

''After all effort you put in helping him out, I think that is very least my would-be-knight can do to make up to you.'' He felt as if he couldn't breathe, and that didn't matter, because Thomsin's cock was hard and warm, and he was finally progressing, head bobbing up and down as he took in its taste, a bit like tart, and smell, like pennyroyal.

''Well then, brat, I have to admit i was wrong. Turns out, you don't suck at sucking! You are in fact natural cocksucker, the rare talent, born for it! You have gift that must not be wasted, and even if, ahem, other areas get neglected it is more than enough to use to get favors from your allies and claim boons from your superiors.'' His cheeks burned with shame, and he fought with desire to smile, because that praise made him feel light and incredible and so, so happy, as if he finally did something right for once in his life.

''I hope it won't come to that. After all, I aim to make honest man out of him, as much as it is possible. And I don't want him to neglect his skills with weapons and fists, just to learn when to use them, and better.'' And Rónán, his Rónán, his selkie, his husband watching made it all so better. He was watching, and he seemed proud of Richard, and he wasn't angry and possessive and violent as Richard knew he would be if he caught woman he was courting with another, and Richard prayed Rónán would let him suxk his dick too.

''Of course, of course, my mistake, I apologize. Still, don't you agree that he is just type of the guy to offer himself to older, more accomplished men in hopes of getting ahead? Would let yourself get fucked by anybody in hopes of getting promotion, wouldn't you?'' And Richard, who often accused Connor of earning his knighthood that way could imagine it, kneeling and opening his mouth to burly men old enough to be his father in return for favors at court, and progress with his attempts to join king's guard.

''Oh, I think that is obvious. Will likely try it, knowing what he is like, but I can't allow that. After all, honesty and dilligence are what I am trying to inspire in him.'' He was kneeling, but it didn't bother him anymore. His bruised knees didn't hurt, because he was finally in his place.

''Well, seems like he will be dilligent when it comes to swallowing cocks. Though I doubt that is work for you, eh? More like very pleasant reward?'' What remained of Richard's pride trie to shake his head, to protest, but rest of him was too busy mourning his own poor cock, ready to erupt, but ring at it's base was so cold and it felt as if his memer had been imprisoned in steel cage, unable to come until released.

''I told you, he has plenty of potential. But he has so much to learn. Let's see, some of virtues knights are famed for are generosity and sacrifice- and that means no coming or swallowing for you, husband.'' Thomsin picked up pace, tugging Richard by hair, and knight whined and cried as selkie's words registered, and he started to plead, unintelligible words exiting his stuffed mouth.

''See! Keep up good work, and you will train him in no time.'' Said Thomsin as he took up his dick, Richard mumbling no as he did that, lurching for it only to be stopped by  insvisible wall, watchin with hunger as brownie jerked off and shoot jets of sparkling, orange cum right at Richard's face, covering his forehead, nose and right cheek.

''Again, I must express my gratitude for your help, mister Thomsin. You have done so much to help me, and so much for my husband. Isn't that right, my dear? Don't you think it is time to apologize?'' Were it some other time, Richard would have fought command. But taste and smell of brownie's dick was still holding him in thrall, and he knew that if it continued he would belong to him, for rest of his days.

''Y-yes... Thank you very much, mister Thomsin. I will correct my behavior. You won't need to punish me again.'' Richard said, slowly and softly, fighting to rein in his tongue, careful not to sit on grass with his bottom, trying his best to stop his hands from scooping up cum and lickin it off.

''Hmmph! Could be much better, but this is a start, and great improvement for likes of you. You should apologize to Margaret too, then I won't need to punish you.'' At hearing word thank you, brownie's eyes briefly flashed dark, before his face softened, though he still looked at Richard with suspicion.

''What- yes, yes, of course!'' He wanted to protest, to scream he had nothing to apologize, least of all to commoner girl, but common sense did sometimes enter his head, though admittedly rarely.

''But as for your husband, I know this won't be last time he has to discipline you...'' And with those words, brownie tucked his dick in his rags and dissappeared, like smoke drifting away as freshly baked pie cooled down, leaving scent of cinnamon and peach behind himself.

''Will you do this to me again?'' Richard asked, speaking to Rónán, who had sat down on nearby log. He kept enough composure that he didn't crawl to demand more pettings, now that his mind was clearing and horrifying realization fell upon him, and he wished to wash his mouth, as he laid ~~soft~~ gaze upon selkie and held his hands ~~so they wouldn't fly to his face to scoop out brownie's cum~~ , and his voice was full of fear and ~~hope,~~ anger ~~and desire~~.

''That remains to be seen. After all, it wholly depends on you and how well you behave. Though, given how you are developing, I am unsure if situations like these should be used as punishments or rewards.'' Rónán smiled, that beautiful smile that made Richard itch with need to knock out his teeth, ~~and to lose himself in it forever.~~

''What the fuck are you talking about? This, this deviant humiliation is hell itself!'' He shouted, thinking of beatings he led against Connor and his friends, of rumors that destroyed career of one nobleman, of angry service one priest held after it was discovered why exactly village's two shepherds were living together.

''If you say so. I'd ask you to take care of how you are talking. After all, you have already seen what happens when you let your dirty mouth run loose... But perhaps that is what you want? Perhaps one cock wasn't enough for you, or perhaps you miss taste of mine?'' Rónán spoke, rolling his eyes, and Richard bristled at him and crossed his arms.

''Can you please stop spouting shit? I am not freak like you or Connor!'' Richard was normal, exemplary man. Not depraved like that.

''Perhaps. But we can control ourselves. Can you say same for yourself? That you don't go mad with lust at sight of one?'' Richard should have recognized what that smirk meant, but alas reason was truly in rare supply within him, especially when he needed to recover his pride.

''Obviously.'' He scoffed, while cum dried at his face and got stuck to his hair, and he had to bite down his tongue and twist his fingers to keep himself from scraping it off and devouring it all, and covering his erection, which was starting to ache with need to come ~~(Rónán told him not, and he had to prove he was good).~~

''Ah. Then this won't bother you.'' And then Rónán unlaced his pants and world stopped existing because Richard had found his purpose again, staring at that long and elegant cock, and his breathing got far more rabid and deeper, and he felt butterflies in his stomach, and then he was crawling on all fours, drooling as he propped his red ass up in air and smiled.

''There, there. I knew it. Others only see image you let them notice, the empty headed bully who hurts and mocks people because he thinks he is better than them. And it is true, of course, but that is just one layer of you- a rather important one, to be fair, as your personality is rather shallow and lacking.''It may have taken moment, or centuries before Richard reached space between Rónán's spread legs, before he breathed in that briny scent, saw light glinting off from well oiled skin.

''But I can see real you beneath all that ugliness. I know that you aren't so bad- in fact, what you truly want, from depths of your heart, is to please people. Not even to be rewarded, though that plays a big part too, of course.'' Richard was flattered, and happy. The whole of Richard, one that most often used his mouth and one that was now crawling on all fours while his ass was stinging. Richard felt so good hearing those kind words, because Rónán was right- being useful to right people was point of everybody's existence, even high noble like him, his father always said. Being useful meant you got noticed, and respected, and awarded, and made powerful.  This made sense, and no part of Richard could deny it, even his most prideful, entitled self recognized that.

And even part of him that was now dragging his precious doublet through dirt so he could get petted and fed cock couldn't hide surprise- nobody had ever before insinuated that Richard was good person even partially.

''Truth is, you just want to be used, and make people happy with your services.'' And Richard's dick ached and his balls felt so full, and his ass was burning and cum at his face was tickling and smelled so nice, and he opened his mouth and let Rónán put his cock inside, nearly whole way down, scratching walls of his throat and he had never felt so full and satisfied and good and he closed his mouth and raised his tongue and....

''Ah, no sucking, I am afraid. Mister Thomsin was right, I can't spoil you too much. You have to get used to dicks, as soon you will be getting it daily, but you must also learn that your pleasure isn't always mandated. You need to learn to be generous, and put others before you.'' Richard's eyes spinned madly, and he tried to protest though dick took up whole of his mouth, and then his erection wilted, falling down like common soldier reprimanded by king, and he whined for need remained, burning, burning worse than his ass.

''Besides, it would be cruel of me to force you to suck another one, after everything. Especially as you hate them, right?'' And Rónán smiled, that sweet and kind smile Richard had before seen only on his mother's face and on Connor's when he took care of pets and hunting hounds and whatever lost broken animal he had found outside, and Richard went dead and slack as he swallowed sob and nodded ( _Oh thank God for small mercy_ , thought voice in his head, quiet and morose, as he felt something be crushed inside him).

''Now, let us continue your education where we left it off. I will try to show you why supporting art is so important, and you will show me whether you are as talented at cockwarming as you are at cocksucking.'' And from somewhere Rónán took out at giant book, and started listing through pages as they both settled in appropriate positions, him relaxed and comfortable as if he was sitting on softest pillows, and Richard kneeling as if he was praying, as a supplicant, grass itching his sensitive behind as he quitened, for he had duty now, and that duty was to be a best hole he could be.

''You will listen carefully, for I will quizz you on these poems later. And if your answers aren't satisfactory, you will apologize to that sweet girl with dried cum all over your face.'' And Rónán started speaking, every third word registering in Richard's brain but each syllable racking his body with beauty of Rónán's performance, and he paled at thought of facing that servant looking like that, and thinking how if Rónán desired it he would walk through royal court covered in dried cum.

But none of that mattered now. The most important thing, far above his reputation and concerns, was making sure he was hole worthy of his lord's cock.

* * *

Connor did his best not to appear anxious. That didn't work well for him, because Connor was horrible at pretending, and normally as anxious as rabbit dreaming of wolves, and anything involving Richard raised that anxiety ten times as much. But he had to do his best to look authoritative and brave, because now he was lord of this manor and he had to earn trust and respect of his employees.

Margaret Dawson, eleven year old maid had barged in his room, begging for forgivness, looking as if she was an inch shy away from complete mental breakdown, saying she will do anything to keep her job, that she will never make mistake, she will accept whipping... Once he and Mrs. Agnes had finally calmed her down, she told them whole story of encounter with Richard, and it had taken hour of reassuring her that no, she wouldn' get kicked out, because she had done nothing wrong. Girl was eleven, and working three jobs, for her father had died last winter and her mother was constantly sick, and she had three younger siblings and no other family to help out, and she barely slept more than four hour a day.

Connor doubted that Richard knew that, and that he would have cared if he did. Connor had to deal with that, to tell him that he was guest at Connor's land and couldn't abuse his staff, or any staff at all like that, even if his brother laughed in his face and kicked out his teeth. Somebody had to, after all. And Connor would think of how to save his head once he found where Richard was (even though he had already combed estate and village over twice, and found him nowhere.)

''Ah, young master Cagonhill! Just who I was looking for! Your brother has laid down for nap, but my duty doesn't have that luxury. I need to find this one girl, Margaret Dawson and hand her this, and tell her how sorry he is over their previous encounter. He will apologize in person too,but he is very tired and it isn't as if he can't  apologize twice, right?''  Seemingly from nowhere, Rónán had appeared and accosted him, carrying enough money to feed twelve member family for three seasons, and once Connor, who almost got heart attack from his words, told him margaret's location, swiftly set off with courteous goodbye and enthusiasm Connor would have never expected of somebody stuck serving Richard.

Quietly, as if he was asassin sneaking up on king, or in danger of waking dragon, Connor snuck in guest room where Richard was staying. He found his brother sleeping so soundly that he doubted catapults could wake him, his clothes, strangely grass stained neatly put over chair, while his brother's face was covred by what seemed to be traces of some dried, pennyroyal smelling orange syrup.

 And strangest of all, upon his table was book of love poems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, how did you like it? And what would you like to see happen to Richard further in?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading! First chapter wasn't very nsfw but it will go up later. Please tell me what sort of creatures and misadventures would you like to see Richard fall in.


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